Every Little Thing
by TruthSerum
Summary: Every little thing makes a difference.
1. Chapter 1

Sydney emerged from the medical wing of the JTF changed, renewed. The sunny skies of Los Angeles appeared even brighter today, the December chill a little less threatening, and the whole world just a little more alive. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the city and the blue skies, relishing in the crisp air tickling the back of her throat. Since the tender age of nineteen, planned and dreamed for days like this, but years on the job jaded her, and she truly stopped believing her fantasies could ever become reality. The moment she stopped indulging her daydreams, suddenly everything fell into place, just as she'd always hoped. That seemed to be happening a lot lately. The last few months had been nearly euphoric with Vaughn by her side, despite continual annoyance with Sloane, frustration with Kendall, and emotional turmoil with her mother. Her burgeoning relationship with Vaughn didn't eliminate any of those hassles from her life, but coming home to his gentle kisses and falling asleep in his protective embrace certainly eased the sting and made surviving each crisis worthwhile. They hadn't even spoken the words yet, but he loved her. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt the depth of his feelings for her, and if she hadn't known before, she certainly would now. He practically confined her to the bed after her bout of vomiting the day before, and refused to entertain any notions of allowing her to accompany him on a relatively simple courier mission to Paris. Sometimes the intensity of his adoration terrified her, and even more, the fact that she reciprocated every overwhelming emotion sent her mind into hyper-drive.

But not anymore.

Now that love created something tangible, something incredible. Their teamwork crumbled the Alliance and forever etched their names in CIA history – legacy enough for any agent – but that history told a tale of lies, danger, and destruction. Of course she derived a certain pride from their accomplishments and their uncanny ability to feed off each other for the good of the country, but bringing down SD-6 didn't complete her life the way this new development would. This product of their undeniable chemistry and seamless partnership brought life instead of ending it, and it meant more to Sydney than any Agency commendation ever could.

Fingering the cell phone in her pocket, she considered all the people she needed to call. Francie, Will, her father, Vaughn's mother, Weiss…hell, she wanted to run up to the roof and shout her wonderful news to all of LA. But first, she needed to tell the man that made it all possible, that encouraged her every step of the way, that never let her fully surrender all her hopes for the future.

As if on cue, her phone began to buzz. She fought the instinctive urge to groan, knowing it was probably Kendall or her father begging her to come in even though Vaughn arranged for her to have the day off. On any other day she might not mind a few hours of distraction, especially since Vaughn would not return until well after dinner time, but right now, national security was the last thing on her mind. She fished for her phone and grinned in delighted surprise when the LCD screen flashed her boyfriend's code name. He teased her mercilessly when he discovered her phone book listed him as 'Vaughn,' so she jokingly changed it to 'Boy Scout' just to nettle him.

"You must have ready my mind," she said by way of a greeting. "I was just thinking about you."

She could have sworn she felt his contagious smile across the ocean and through the phone. "Yeah, but I could have called anytime and you would say that," he retorted cockily.

"Dream on, Boy Scout," she laughed happily.

"We'll talk about my dreams later," he murmured huskily. "But how are you feeling? What did the doctor say?" Instantaneously, Playful Vaughn disappeared, replaced by Concerned Vaughn. She always knew he worried about her, and Weiss told many tales of their drunken exploits during her mission, but his anxieties quickly escalated to epic proportions as soon as they started dating. Strangely enough, his protectiveness only increased her affections for him, though she would never tolerate the same behaviour from anyone else. True, she hated his coddling in the professional arena, but his devotion beyond the confines of the office made her feel cherished, not belittled. The fact that he could separate tough-as-nails Agent Bristow from everyday Sydney and still love both diametrically opposed entities just proved he understood her better than anyone.

She had been perturbed by his insistence on going solo to Paris, but mostly she just hated to let him leave for a foreign country without her. This newfound dependence startled her a little, but they'd only been together for six months now, so she told herself it was normal to feel unsettled during separations. "I'm fine," she assured him. "Just a little something I picked up," she managed to say with a straight face. "Are you heading home now?"

"Yeah, I'm in the cab now. You sure you want to pick me up tonight? I can get Weiss to do it if you're too tired."

"Don't be ridiculous," she protested. "I don't feel sick anymore and I can't wait to see you. I'll come get you at the airport and then we can have a late dinner. I can fix something, or we could go out, if the jet lag isn't too bad."

Vaughn hesitated before answering, and his next words sounded a little strained. "I've done this a million times," he said softly. "I'd love to go out."

The sudden lack of enthusiasm in his voice temporarily disarmed her. "Vaughn? Are you okay? What's going on?" She stopped walking and held the phone a little closer to her ear, trying to make out the voices in the background.

"Everything's fine, Syd. But I think I need to-"

A squeal of tires suddenly blared in her ear, cutting off his response and causing her to cringe in pain. Fear gripped her heart in a crushing vice as crunching metal crack through the lines, filling her mind with horrific images. A car horn emitted a long, mournful howl, and then there was nothing. _Please God, no!_ she prayed frantically. _Let him be okay, please!_

"Vaughn?" she cried desperately, hoping by some miracle he hadn't hung up the phone. She needed to hear his voice assuring her he was fine, that it was just a little fender-bender, that he would be home as scheduled. "Vaughn, talk to me, please!" she begged again. "Michael, you have to be okay!"

She heard a soft moan at her last urgent plea, but it was so quiet she couldn't be sure it was him. It sounded so far away, and she knew he'd probably dropped the phone. A few seconds later, a ragged breath filled her ear as he struggled to speak. He coughed harshly, but she could only sigh in relief, knowing he was still alive. "Syd?" he whimpered weakly.

"I'm here, Michael," she soothed immediately. "What's going on? Are you okay? God, Vaughn, are you hurt?"

He hesitated again and her heart lurched in her chest. "Truck…" he began. "Crash…gas…" he rambled. She caught the meaning of his words and fought to stay calm.

"Listen to me, Michael," she commanded. "Get out of the car NOW. You need to get out."

"My arm," he groaned. "Shit, Syd."

"Vaughn, listen to me!" she shouted. "You HAVE to get out of the car. Someone will be there to help you soon but you have to listen to me and get out of there."

"Ok," he agreed. She heard him cry out as he struggled to comply, but then their connection suddenly died. A sob erupted unbidden from her throat, nearly sending her to her knees in the middle of the crowded sidewalk. Concerned faces drank in the sight, but she fought away several gentle touches, trying to restore order to her mind.

_Okay, Sydney, he was talking to you, _she reminded herself. He sounded confused and scared, but he did talk to her and follow her orders. Now he needed her to be strong and do everything she could to get him home safely. Her breathing steadied out as much as possible, and rational thought tempered the growing hysteria in her head. She regained enough control to run back into the building, all but forgetting the joyous news of just an hour before.

Jack Bristow spotted his daughter's wide-eyed and tear-streaked face right after he finished shouting his own commands into a headset, and he immediately flung off the equipment and bolted to her side. She looked like she would go down any second. Her tenuous grip on control melted as soon as her father embraced her. "Daddy!" she sobbed as he held her close.

"Shh," he soothed. "There was another Agency car behind Vaughn's. He got out of the car before it blew up. They're taking him to the hospital now. He's in good hands, Sweetheart."

"He was talking to me," she continued to cry. "He called me and we were talking and I heard the crash. I heard it, Dad."

Jack wisely said nothing, but continued to hold her. The agent he'd just spoken to advised him of Vaughn currently unconscious status, but Sydney hardly seemed prepared to handle that news. He knew the younger agent would be fine, but if Sydney knew just how close she came to losing him, he wasn't so sure she would be alright. She would be better off not knowing until she could see him face to face, lest her imagination run wild and concoct a multitude of horrible scenarios.

"Dad, I have to go to Paris. I have to be there for him," she begged.

"Okay, Sydney," he agreed, unable to deny her broken plea. "I'll make all the arrangements, but you need to promise me you'll relax and stay calm in the meantime." She nodded hurriedly, and he passed her over to the care of Agent Weiss, instructing him to sit with her and give her water.

Weiss led her to Jack's office and forced her to drink a bottle of water. She was trembling horribly, her face pale and drawn. Vaughn would kill him if he let her get sick over this, so he wrapped a brotherly arm around her shoulder.

"Eric, he's going to be okay, right?" she asked in a tiny voice, wavering slightly. She never reacted like this, especially in the field, but the thought of losing him just when everything seemed perfect completely wore her to the bone, and all her old fears of abandonment ran rampant.

"Of course, Syd. The only person I know more stubborn than you is Vaughn. He'll be fighting with the doctors before you know it. But he would hate to see those tears," he added gently.

Sydney quickly wiped her eyes before Weiss could do it for her. That was always Vaughn's job, and she wasn't going to let anyone else do it until he could. For a brief moment, she considered telling Eric about her prior discovery, but she wanted Vaughn to know first. She wanted it to be their little secret, just for a while. Something they could share and celebrate alone before letting the rest of the world in. Besides, her father would never let her jet off to France like this if he knew. Vaughn would probably kill her for being so reckless, but that was a consequence she'd welcome with open arms just to see him for herself and sit by his side until he could come home with her. She'd known for a long time that she loved him, but the last few hours proved just how much she needed him.

"Sydney?" Jack interrupted her ruminations. "The plane's waiting. Are you ready to go?"

She nodded and rose, fighting an insidious wave of nausea accompanying her movement. Her father led her to the airstrip, and then followed her onboard. She knew his presence was not solely for her benefit. He stepped up to the plate in her times of trouble, but Jack Bristow simply did not fly with his daughter to France to see her injured boyfriend just to provide emotional support. First, he didn't even possess the emotional intelligence required to play the supportive father role, and second, he would never miss work for something so frivolous.

It was a hit. She was supposed to go with him, ride in the car next to him, and now he was in a hospital somewhere in Paris. It didn't take a genius to deduce there was more to this than a fluke traffic mishap. Coincidences just didn't occur in her life.

Sydney's astounding propensity for guilt kept her mind busy throughout the entire flight, berating her for putting him in this much danger. For the sake of the life inside her, she was thankful he'd forced her to stay home. But if not for her, if not for the love she bore for him, he wouldn't have been a target. Loving her made him fair game for any of her numerous enemies. Whatever happened to him, whatever injuries he sustained, culpability belonged to her.

Jack left her to brood, knowing nothing he could say or do would aide this particular situation. She pretended to sleep most of the flight, but she kept hearing the crash over and over. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw vivid flashes, crimson blood, the bright orange fire erupting from the car. She knew Vaughn was resting safely in a bed, far away from the horrors of the accident, now protected from anyone wanting to do harm to him. But part of her mind just kept the images rolling like a film reel, taunting her with everything that could have happened if he hadn't called her at that moment, or if he'd been a split second later climbing out of the car. Moving her hand to her stomach, she wondered briefly what she would have done with the baby if she lost him. Her little son or daughter would always remind her of the man she loved more than anything, and once more, a child would grow up without a parent. She and Vaughn always swore to right all the wrongs of their families, but only a few seconds and a serendipitous phone call kept them from repeating the cycle all over again.

Sydney always loved landing in Paris, even though she never actually had the time to enjoy the city. She almost laughed as the plane descended, remembering how upset she'd been that Vaughn didn't let her come along. Secretly, the minute Kendall handed them their assignment, she began planning their romantic day around the city. She ended up spending the evening with Vaughn in Paris, but it wasn't quite the way she'd planned. Sighing aloud, she squeezed his hand once more, allowing her other hand to drift back to her stomach. He still lay quietly in the narrow bed of his hospital room, a little pale and covered with little cuts where the glass hit his skin. A white cased encased his left arm, and a small bandage covered a wound on his temple. Monitors attached to him beeped steadily, but an oxygen mask rested over his mouth, obscuring part of his face and preventing her from greeting him properly with a grateful kiss. She cried softly as a doctor listed his injuries like a mechanic reading off the details of a damaged car. Lacerations, broken arm, low grade concussion, bruised ribs, and smoke inhalation from the explosion. Her rational mind knew he would be just fine and that his injuries weren't that serious, but she'd feel a hell of a lot better if he told her that himself.

Sydney picked up his right hand and squeezed gently, hoping he felt it and knew she was there. His sleep seemed peaceful, but she hated the forced sound of breath entering his lungs through the mask. Even though it was only a precautionary measure to combat the smoke he'd inhaled when the car caught on fire, she still needed to see for herself that he could breathe on his own.

"Vaughn, I'm here," she whispered, hoping he might hear her encouragement and decide to join her once more in the land of the living "I need you to wake up so I can tell you something really important," she tried again. "I need you to wake up so I know you're okay. Come on, Michael, open your eyes." She continued to speak quietly, tears dripping silently down her ashen cheeks when he failed to respond. Still, he slept.

After several hours of hushed meetings and secret planning, Jack scoured the hospital corridor for his daughter and Vaughn. He found Sydney sitting uncomfortably in a blue plastic chair, crying weakly while she held her lover's hand and spoke in gentle whispers. He knocked softly on the door to avoid startling her, and then stepped inside. In an unwonted display of affection and sympathy, he laid a caring hand on her shoulder and squeezed it tightly.

"He's not awake yet, Dad," she murmured fearfully. "He's been unconscious since he came in."

"You know he'll be fine, Sydney," her father said reassuringly.

"I know…I really do. I just…I keep hearing his voice. He was so confused and scared. I just want to hear him talk so I can stop remembering." She closed her eyes, hoping to ward off the memory of his frightened words.

"I know, Sweetheart," he sympathised. "But he'll wake up when he's ready, and he'll want to see you rested and smiling when he does. Let's go find something to eat. You haven't had anything all day."

Sydney shook her head in protest. "I can't," she rasped. "I need to be here when he wakes up."

"You will be," he assured her. Looking down at her, he realised how much worse she looked than when he dropped her off here hours ago. Her face appeared far too pale, the normal flushed colour drained from her cheeks. She trembled slightly, and Jack quickly surmised that it was more than fear causing her to shake. "Sydney, you're white as a sheet," he said in concern. "Come on. You're not staying here unless you eat something and drink some water." He offered his hand, and she hesitantly accepted his help. She considered arguing with him and insisting on staying with Vaughn, but she did feel a little sick, and she knew it had been foolish to ignore her needs.

The moment her feet supported her weight, a sudden wave of dizziness overcame her, causing her to falter slightly.

"Sydney?" her father asked in alarm.

She took a deep, steadying breath and closed her eyes against the pain taking up residence in her skull. "I'm fine, Dad, Just stood up to fast." She tried to prove her assertion by walking towards the door, but her head felt light, disconnected from the rest of her body. The last thing she saw was her father breaking her unexpected crash to the floor.

Vaughn woke up with a vague discomfort nagging his fuzzy brain and an agitating plastic mask over his face. The fluorescent institutional glow bothered his eyes, but whatever the hell was on his mouth definitely needed to go. He attempted to move his hand to the offending object, but found it anchored to the bed by a stiff weight covering his arm. In frustration and confusion, he tried the other hand, relieved when it functioned properly and complied with his wishes. He clawed away the mask and took a gasping gulp of air as oxygen momentarily eluded him.

"Careful, Agent Vaughn. You might need that."

_Oh God, not again._ Vaughn recognised the cold, dry voice, and it belonged to the last person he wanted to talk to right at this very moment. He considered closing his eyes and pretending to be unconscious again. He'd been dreaming that he heard Sydney's voice, but obviously he had the wrong Bristow. A nurse shuffled into the room and he felt her place a plastic tube under his nose, immediately followed by the cool relief of oxygen piping into his body. He waited for her to leave before turning to Jack. "Where the hell am I?" he demanded, though his voice came out as a tired whisper. He suddenly coughed, the pain in his lungs excruciating as he did so.

"Give yourself a minute," Jack suggested calmly.

"Jack, what's going on? What am I doing here?"

"Do you remember the accident?" the older agent asked.

Vaughn racked his brain, suddenly remembering bits and pieces of the day -the mission, talking to Sydney, seeing the truck, the crash, Sydney's voice breaking the darkness and urging him out of the wreckage, and then nothing. He nodded weakly, mentally assessing the damage. The cast meant a broken arm; the hammers against his skull indicated a concussion…

"You're going to be fine," Jack told him. "You may be having a little trouble breathing because you swallowed a nice amount of smoke when the car blew up."

"Great," Vaughn commented wryly. "I guess that explains why my lungs feel like they're on fire." He thought he caught a glimpse of almost fatherly concern from the hardened man, but it disappeared before Vaughn could even question it. His thought immediately turned to Sydney; he could have sworn he heard her voice. "I thought I heard Sydney earlier," he said without thinking, forgetting for a moment that he probably shouldn't so openly acknowledge the fact that Sydney consumed a great portion of his subconscious, especially to her father.

"Don't look so sheepish, Agent Vaughn," Jack said dryly. "I have a feeling it will soon be public knowledge that you and my daughter are…involved." He smiled like he knew something Vaughn didn't, and Vaughn suddenly felt immensely uncomfortable. This was the second time he'd woken up to Jack Bristow's smirking face, and he didn't particularly want there to be a third. "Sydney's here," Jack continued, "but she can't see you right now. She was sitting with you earlier. You probably did hear her."

"Is she okay?" Vaughn asked in concern, no longer caring what Jack knew. Sydney was too hard-headed to leave unless someone or something forced her to do so, and neither explanation made him feel any better.

"She's a little tired."

"Don't bullshit me, Jack," Vaughn growled. "Where is she?"

"Down the hall in another room. But you're not going anywhere, so just relax."

Vaughn felt his blood run cold, and he sat up straight despite the pain. "What happened? Is she alright? How the hell did she even get here?"

"She insisted. I'm sure you know how hard it is to deny her anything when she makes up her mind," he commented pointedly. "She was too worried about you to eat or drink anything all day, and with all the throwing up she's done recently, it was too much for her to handle. She collapsed about an hour ago, but she and the baby are fine. They're just getting her rehydrated and rested."

Vaughn sighed in obvious relief that she was okay before fully allowing the words to sink in. "Wait! The WHAT?" he asked incredulously.

Jack couldn't contain his tiny smile. "I don't know if I should congratulate you or wring your neck," he remarked, only half joking. "But seeing as you're already in the hospital, I guess I'll settle for congratulations."

Vaughn blinked. Then blinked again. "Oh my God! Are you serious? How long? Can I go see her?" He began to rip the needles out of his skin, determined to climb out of bed immediately and find Sydney, despite his spinning head and aching body.

"Stop, Vaughn," Jack commanded forcefully. "You need to wait for the doctor. I already had to admit Sydney for being reckless on your behalf. I don't want to explain to her why her boyfriend has to stay in the hospital for another week." He struggled visibly with the word 'boyfriend,' but the recent revelation must have softened the stony agent considerably, because he still hadn't made any attempts on Vaughn's life.

Hearing the commotion from the room, the doctor entered, followed by the nurse that attended Vaughn earlier. The doctor spoke a little English, but Vaughn encouraged him to converse in French. His still sluggish brain comprehended the words of his mother tongue a little more easily.

"Any pain, Mr. Vaughn?" the doctor asked, lifting the edge of the bandage on his temple.

"Just a little," Vaughn admitted. "My arm is sore and I have a headache, but it's really not bad. I feel fine." It wasn't entirely the truth, but the pain really didn't matter right now. He could take some pills later, when Sydney was in his arms and they could rest together. She was his first thought when the truck hit his car; he knew she'd heard everything. He pictured her alone, clinging to the phone, desperate to hear his voice affirming that he was okay. Even as the pain shrouded him in blackness, he kept that image in his head, giving him the motivation to stay awake long enough to get help. The idea that he might not ever see her again absolutely destroyed him and kept him clinging to consciousness. He had to survive just to see her face once more. Now he had another life to live for, and he didn't want to waste another second.

"I believe you're acquainted with another of my patients down the hall," the doctor smiled knowingly.

Vaughn's face lit up proudly. "Yeah, she's my girlfriend," he confirmed.

"She was very worried about you," the other man noted solemnly.

"Yeah, we're good at that," Vaughn chuckled.

The doctor continued his examination, pressing gently on Vaughn's head, checking for any undetected injuries. "Well, you have a Grade 2 concussion, Mr. Vaughn. I know you want to see Ms. Bristow, but I should warn you that the pain will be pretty intense when the adrenaline wears off. I would suggest staying put for the night and visiting with Sydney tomorrow."

Vaughn shook his head, not at all persuaded. "I'm fine. And I can relax with her."

"In that case, I just need to check your lungs before I can let you leave. Any coughing?"

"Just when I first woke up."

The nurse helped him sit up straight while the doctor listened to his lungs with a stethoscope. "Well, Mr. Vaughn, everything sounds okay. We're going to give you some medication, but if you have any trouble breathing, you need to return right away. Understood?"

"Understood," Vaughn nodded seriously.

They disconnected him from the monitors, IVs, and oxygen tube and handed him a prescription bottle of pills. His clothes sat in the chair in the corner of the room, looking a little worse for wear, but Sydney had the foresight to request his suitcase to be sent over from the car. Jack handed him his luggage and directed him to the bathroom. He wobbled just a little, but did his best to remain steady. He wrestled with his sweater, struggling to pull it on over the cast and then fasten it in the sling. The inability to use his right arm made the entire process of getting changed awkward and exhausting, and he finally emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later, a little pale from all the effort. As soon as he stepped into the hospital room, Jack pointed a wheelchair.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Vaughn groaned.

"Do you want to see Sydney?" he asked rhetorically, a small smile indicative of the perverse pleasure he derived from this little power trip.

_Enjoy it while it lasts, Jack,_ Vaughn thought wryly. _I am now OFFICIALLY a permanent fixture in your daughter's life_. Whether Jack Bristow accepted it or not, Vaughn had just become a full-fledged member of the family. With that knowledge in mind, he allowed Jack this last little feeling of triumph and sat down in the wheelchair.

Sydney's room was just a few doors down from his, and Jack allowed him to move to the chair beside her bed before leaving. He closed the door behind him, allowing the two as much privacy as they could get in a hospital. Vaughn waited until the older agent disappeared from view before fully drinking in the sight of his sleeping girlfriend.

An IV ran into the back of Sydney's hand, but she was otherwise untouched by medical equipment. She looked startlingly pale amidst the white sheets, and he raised his good hand to her cheek just to reassure himself. The soft contact roused her ever so slightly, causing her to smile dreamily and lean into his touch. Even that tiny involuntary movement thrilled him. A year ago, sharing more than a too-brief, stiff hug with the beautiful woman before him remained an opium dream, entirely out of reach. He knew he'd never been good at hiding his growing affections for her, but he'd started to wonder during those long months if she would ever heard the words and truly understand the depth of his emotions. He relied on cryptic messages and fleeting glances to speak the words deemed inappropriate by their professional relationship, and even maintaining eye contact for more than a few seconds stirred far too many impure thoughts. If he'd allowed himself to imagine loving and being loved by Sydney Bristow, he never would have been able to look at her, work with her, keep her safe.

A little over six months ago, he tasted the wonder of her lips for the very first time .He realised then all he'd felt for her in the prior two years only scratched the surface of his true feelings. He felt more content than he ever dreamed possible, and his life seemed strangely complete with her in it. Every day after, he'd fallen a little more in love.

Three months ago, he finally screwed up the courage to ask her to move in. Separate apartments were really just a formality since they spent every night together, but he still knew what moving in together symbolised. It had taken several nights of heavy drinking with Weiss to even make the decision to try, and another few to figure out what to say. Even that night at dinner, he'd almost lost the battle with his nerves, just barely managing to keep his food down when he proposed the idea over crème brulee at her favourite restaurant. She lit up brilliantly and immediately agreed, laughing in delight when colour returned to his cheeks. "Did you really think I'd say no?" she'd asked, amused by his sudden lack of confidence.

After a month of joint residence, Sydney started dropping hints. He realised the moment he began hauling in her boxes that his apartment was far too small for two people, and it was a little farther from work now that they spent most days in the JTF. He bought it when he was still involved with Alice, and he immediately turned it into the quintessential bachelor pad for the sole purpose of discouraging moving their relationship any farther along. He loved having Sydney with him all the time, but with their combined possessions, living space was a little cramped. He never expected his spy girlfriend to resort to subterfuge in relationships, but she masterfully planted tiny, indirect remarks about buying a house into casual conversation.

Fully intending to play along with her little scheme, he acted unaffected by her words. During his rare moments of spare time, he surreptitiously looked through real estate listings for a suitable home. Two months ago, he found it – the PERFECT house. A short drive from work, the realtor promised it was just the right investment for a new couple. It had a nice backyard and a picturesque façade, plenty of room and a nice layout, and instinct told him she would love it. So he went out on a limb and bought the house, despite Eric's warnings that he'd finally lost his mind. He then tossed out the idea of checking out the property, just to consider the possibility of buying a home in the future, and staged a visit to the house, carefully monitoring Sydney's reactions.

_"I love it, Vaughn," she gushed. "This is just the kind of place I pictured."_

_"I like it too," he agreed casually. "It seems pretty perfect. Maybe we should consider it."_

_"Are you sure? You're not just saying that because I like it?"_

_"No, I really do love it. The fact that you feel the same way just seals the deal. Honestly, I wasn't expecting to like it so much, but now that we've seen everything, I think maybe we should go ahead and make an offer."_

_"You're kidding me," she stated incredulously. "You really want to?"_

_"Why wouldn't I?" he laughed._

_"Oh my God!" she marvelled. "We're really going to do this!"_

_"Actually," he grinned, "we already have." He reached into his pocket and extracted a small box. He flipped open the lid to reveal a shiny silver key tied in a bright red bow._

_"Vaughn," she gaped. "You didn't!"_

_"I saw it and it just seemed so perfect. You're not quite as sly as you think, Bristow," he teased. "I knew you were dying to get a bigger place. You don't mind that I did this without you?"_

_"God, Vaughn…" He cupped her face, surprised to find tears streaming down her cheeks. "Vaughn, this is the most amazing…"_

Smiling at the memory of that day, Vaughn reached out and stroked Sydney's face. "Sydney," he whispered. "Syd, wake up."

She moaned quietly and blinked her eyes against the bright lighting. It took her several moments to focus on her face, and her smile instantly took over the moment she recognised him.

"Hey Gorgeous," he whispered reverently.

"Vaughn! You're awake!" She pushed herself up to a sitting position to better examine him. "You should be in bed," she reprimanded, taking his hand from her face and holding it between both of hers.

"Well, I heard a little rumour, and I had to check it out for myself." He moved their joined hands to rest on her stomach. It was still flat, but he wondered now how he hadn't noticed the small curve before; he knew every inch of her. "God, you are so beautiful," he breathed.

Sydney's eyes glimmered with tears of joy as he gently explored her changing body, marvelling with sheer wonder that a child was actually growing inside of her. She planned to deliver this amazing news over an exquisite meal and a quiet evening alone, but just seeing him safe beside her more than made up for the unfortunate turn of events. And of course, they would never forget celebrating in a hospital room in Paris. "Are you happy about this, Vaughn?" she asked, needing to make sure.

He laughed mirthfully in response, risking his unsteady knees to stand and gently kiss her lips. He smoothed the hair away from her face and proceeded to cover her skin with tiny kisses. When he finished, she gingerly helped him climb into the narrow bed next to her. She snuggled underneath the crook of his good arm and laid her head on his chest, revelling in the beat of her heart. This was the sound, the feeling, the comfort she'd needed since the moment she first heard the crashed. "I'm more than happy, Syd," he sighed contentedly. His chest suddenly seized and he coughed painfully, grimacing at the searing heat in his lungs. Sydney twisted in his arms, deftly manoeuvring around her own IV to hold him and steel him against the harsh jarring. "I'm okay," he rasped, holding out a hand to cease her ministrations.

"Vaughn, you shouldn't be up," she chastised. "You should have waited for me to come to you."

Vaughn smiled ruefully and pointed to the tube in the back of her hand. "Sort of like you should have for the last five hours?"

She blushed slightly and looked away. She wasn't used to being in anything less than top form, and now she had practically no control over her own body. The unexpected vulnerability scared her a little, and she realised the enormity of the situation for the first time. "God, this is going to change everything, Vaughn."

"Only in the best ways," he assured her, stroking her long hair currently somewhat tangled against the scratchy sheets. "We're going to be parents, Syd."

"Yeah, we are," she agreed, smiling in bemusement at the absolute incredulity in his voice. "I'm due in September, though," she groaned. "Do you know how horrible it's going to be to be VERY pregnant during the summer in Los Angeles?"

"Well, maybe we'll just have to take a little time off," he grinned mischievously. "Find someplace a little more…comfortable…for the last few months."

Sydney rolled her eyes at the implication in his words. "Vaughn, sex is going to be the last thing on your mind when I'm seven months pregnant."

"We'll see about that. But how do you feel? Are you okay?"

"Oh God, you're already starting," she teased. "You know you're going to die young if you keep worrying like this, right? And our son or daughter is going to need a dad, so stop."

"Syd, if stress was really going to kill me, I would have been dead a long time ago," he noted.

Sydney suddenly sobered and huddled further into his embrace. Confused, Vaughn kissed the top of her head and allowed her to cuddle against him. "New subject now," she whispered. "I almost lost you today and I don't really want to think about it."

"Syd," he breathed sympathetically. "I'm fine. You saved me. You told me to get out of the car and I did, for you. You saved my life, Sydney. And you know I won't leave you."

"Promise?"

"I promise."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Jack Bristow stepped quietly into his daughter's room, smiling slightly at the sight greeting him. Vaughn slept awkwardly against a pillow, one arm in a cast and the other tucked around Sydney, and a peaceful expression gracing his features. Sydney wore a similar smile as she lay with her head on Vaughn's chest and the rest of her body curled up in a tight ball, just as she'd done as a child. They were both a sight for sore eyes, but they both looked so happy, despite their surroundings and the events of the day. For a moment, he allowed himself to remember when Irina announced her pregnancy, how happy he'd been, how amazed that he took part in something so miraculous. His daughter and her boyfriend must feel the same way; their bliss over the baby was the only thing that could distract them from the looming threat to their lives. He hated to wake them now, knowing they both needed rest and time to convalesce, and hating even more that he would probably shatter the perfect bubble currently cocooning them against the harsh reality of their world.

Taking a deep breath and reminding himself that this was best for them, Jack stepped to Sydney's side and gently smoothed the hair away from her face, rousing her in the process. She blinked a few times in confusion before rolling over and bringing her father into focus. "Daddy?" she asked sleepily.

Jack smiled at the innocent slip and her drowsy state as he nodded his head. "Yes, Sweetheart. You and Vaughn need to wake up so I can talk to you."

Sydney blinked again, her mind still a little fuzzy from the sedatives she'd been given. "Why?" she questioned, rubbing her tired eyes.

"Sydney, you can't stay here tonight. We have to talk about what we're going to do," he explained gently.

"Okay," she agreed. "Can you give us just a minute?"

He politely left the room, promising to bring them both coffee – decaf for Sydney - when he returned. Sydney sighed aloud and rolled over again to face Vaughn. Though she could tell he was still in pain, he looked so adorably boyish and content that she hated to disturb him. She moved one hand to his face and lovingly stroked his stubbled cheek, but he merely leaned into her touch and continued to sleep. "Vaughn," she said quietly, moving her hand to his chest to shake him gently. "Vaughn, Honey, you need to wake up," she encouraged. "Come on, Michael."

"Syd?" he slurred, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Yeah, it's me. Come on, you need to wake up. My dad will be back in a few minutes and we all need to talk."

Vaughn forced his eyes open, wincing at the bright lights. "Then can we go back to sleep?" he asked hopefully.

Sydney chuckled and kissed his forehead. "I don't know. He said we can't stay here tonight, but I don't think you're going to be ready to leave just yet. You look like you're hurting," she said in concern.

"Just a little," he admitted. He sat up a little straighter and quickly closed his eyes, panting heavily. "Okay, maybe a lot," he amended.

Sydney face furrowed even more in consternation as she watched him struggle with the pain. "You're not going anywhere tonight," she asseverated, shaking her head.

"If we have to leave we have to leave," he sighed. "I'll be fine. We'll probably be a lot better off somewhere else. This is the first place they'll look for us."

Sydney opened her mouth to protest, but her father stepped in before she conjured a response. "I'm afraid he's right, Sydney," Jack agreed solemnly. "Obviously the hit was intended for both of you, and considering Vaughn's injuries, they'll be looking for you in all the nearby hospitals. We need to get you both out of Paris."

"Dad, there's no way Vaughn can travel like this!" she argued.

"That's why I'm going to suggest a safe house just a few hours away," her father answered calmly, trying to soothe his daughter. "We can get you out of here quietly, and then you two can just rest in the safe house until you're ready to fly home. This is really the best solution, Sydney. It's the best way to protect you both from further harm."

Sydney turned dolefully to Vaughn, her eyes begging him to disagree with her father. But he only nodded his head in approval, even as he winced at the movement. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked them both sceptically.

Vaughn jumped in before Jack had a chance to argue logistics with her, choosing instead to appeal to her emotions. "Come on, Syd, don't you want to sleep in a real bed? It'll be like vacation," he grinned. "Just a few days tucked away in France, no uncomfortable hospital sheets or horrible institutional food?"

"I commend your effort, Agent Vaughn," she rolled her eyes. "But I guess I don't really have a choice in the matter."

"Agent Roberts is going to drive you. I have a plane waiting to take me back to Los Angeles, but I'll see you both in a few days. Take care of my daughter, Agent Vaughn."

"I will," he agreed seriously.

"Bye, Sweetheart," Jack said, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

Once he left the room, Sydney took it upon herself to tear out the IV attached to her hand and climb out of bed. "Uh, Syd, I think maybe you should have waited for the doctor to do that," Vaughn frowned.

"It's not a big deal, Vaughn," she said irritably. "And besides, I've done it before. Despite our frequent need for hospital stays, our line of work usually intereferes."

Vaughn could tell she was not happy about this decision, so he wisely opted not to comment. As much as she hated this, it was their only viable solution. His head and arm ached miserably, and his lungs still felt tight, but none of his own ailments worried him as much as the possibility of something happening to Sydney. He would love to go back to sleep with Sydney next to him, but he couldn't put her into danger like that, especially now.

Since he was already dressed and ready to go, he stood up shakily and stood against the door, watching as she quickly changed back into her clothes and pulled her hair into a ponytail. "Ugh, Vaughn," she groaned, "I didn't pack anything. I don't have anything to wear."

"It's just going to be the two of us, so why do you even need clothes?" he joked.

"I don't think I need to remind you that you have a broken arm and a concussion, do I?" she shot back.

"Syd, relax," he urged her. "I was kidding. I have an extra pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt in my suitcase. We'll make do. It's just a few days."

"I know," she sighed. "This is just so messed up. I'm sorry I'm being unpleasant."

Ignoring the pain, he walked over to her side and pulled her into a comforting hug. "Don't be sorry," he whispered. "You have every right to be upset. I'm not thrilled with the situation either, but we just have to go with it."

Sydney nodded reluctantly and pulled away. He attempted to pick up his suitcase, but she quickly stepped in and took it for him. If his arm didn't hurt like hell, he might protest, but the room was already beginning to tilt and he was obviously going to have to focus on just making it to the car. Sydney picked up on his dazed expression and wove her free hand through his fingers for support.

They made it to the car, but Vaughn looked utterly spent from the short trip, and his face seemed a little paler than before. Agent Roberts put his suitcase in the trunk and ushered them both into the backseat. "It will probably take about three hours," he advised them, "so just get comfortable. Don't worry about a thing."

Sydney and Vaughn shared an amused grin at this; obviously her father hadn't really filled poor Agent Roberts in on their background. Not worrying would be equivalent to not breathing right now.

Once they were situated in the car, Vaughn leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. Sydney reached across the gap between them and reclaimed his hand, rubbing small circles with her thumb in an effort to soothe him and lull him back to sleep. She still didn't feel 100, but he looked far worse. The excited energy and sublime happiness quickly faded as the pain returned, and she only wished there was more she could do to comfort him. She'd had more than her share of concussions and broken bones, and he had to be absolutely miserable right now. The fact that he struggled through it to keep her safe just made her love him that much more. "You okay?" she questioned softly.

"I will be," he managed, eyes still clenched shut.

"Do you think you can get some sleep?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly, his voice sounding a little strained.

"Just try to relax," she soothed. "We'll be there before you know it."

He nodded wearily, too tired to say anything else. They rode for a while in silence, Sydney squeezing his hand every few minutes as he shifted uncomfortably, face tortured with each movement. By the time an hour passed, Sydney was ready to tell Agent Roberts to turn around and find another hospital. Even in the dark, she could tell Vaughn's face was ashen, and tiny beads of sweat lined his forehead. His breathing had grown laboured again, agitated by the strain of keeping himself upright and by the raging headache pounding his skull.

Sydney bit her lip, unsure of what to do. She knew they couldn't just turn back, but she couldn't bear to watch him like this for another two hours. She almost wished he would just pass out already so he could have a little relief. "Vaughn," she murmured in agony. "Just try to sit still, Honey."

"It hurts, Syd," he groaned.

"I know. I know, but you're only making it worse. You need to sit still and try to sleep," she instructed.

"I…I don't think I can, Syd," he choked out, struggling through the words with his choppy breath.

"I knew this was a bad idea," Sydney said tearfully. "I'm so sorry, Vaughn."

"Not…your fault," he rasped.

"Here, I've got an idea. Take off your seatbelt and lay down across the seat," she suggested.

"Syd…I'll be ok. Don't…don't worry."

"Can't help it," she said simply. "I learned from the best. Now come on, just lay down."

He still didn't make any efforts to move, so Sydney reached out and gently eased him down until his head rested in her lap. She placed one hand on his back and the other on his head, running her fingers through his hair to help him relax.

"You need…you need to sleep too," he said quietly.

"I will," she lied, knowing full well she wouldn't rest until he was comfortably tucked in a warm bed and free of the torturous pain he must be enduring. She felt a few tears escape from her eyes as she watched him suffer, praying to whoever was listening that he would fall asleep soon.

Her efforts finally paid off, and she listened in relief as his breathing began to steady out and his movements stilled. She felt his breath against her lap and continued to run her fingers through his hair while he slept. After a while her own eyes began to droop, and she leaned her head against the window and began to doze off.

Two hours later, Agent Roberts pulled the car to the front door of a small, run-of-the-mill CIA safe house. Sydney woke immediately and glanced down at Vaughn, still sound asleep in her lap. She hated to rouse him now, but the sooner she got him in bed, the better off he'd be. "Vaughn?" she whispered. "Vaughn, we're here. Wake up for just a few minutes."

"Do you need some help, Agent Bristow?" Roberts asked kindly.

"If you could just grab his suitcase, I'll get him inside," she smiled tensely.

"Syd?" Vaughn asked in confusion.

"We're at the safe house, Vaughn. You need to wake up so we can go inside. I promise you can go back to sleep in just a few minutes."

He groaned in pain, but finally conceded and sat up. "Where are we?" he asked in confusion, his head fuzzy from the pain and the medication.

"At the safe house," she repeated gently. "Come on, let's get you into bed."

She climbed out first and then eased him carefully from the seat and to a standing position. He leaned heavily on her, still battling to keep his eyes open and focused. Despite her own fatigue, Sydney knew he was feeling far worse, and bore most of his weight for him as they staggered inside. Roberts silently pointed her in the direction of the bedroom, and she gratefully accepted his help transporting Vaughn down the hallway. He quickly informed them of the contact protocol and their travel arrangements to head back to Los Angeles in a few days before taking his leave and leaving the couple alone.

Vaughn was almost asleep again, but Sydney knew he would wake up uncomfortable later if she didn't get him out of his sweater and jeans and into a better position in the bed. "Vaughn," she whispered. "Let's get you out of these clothes."

"Syd, I don't know if I can tonight…" he groaned apologetically.

Fighting the urge to chuckle, Sydney kissed him on the cheek. "Not like that, Vaughn," she scolded playfully. "I meant so you could sleep. The other stuff can wait until you're better."

"Promise?" he joked wearily.

"Yes, I promise," she laughed. "How do you want to do this?"

"It's gonna be hard to get it over my cast," he said, the pain seeping through his words. "Just…pull it quickly, I guess."

Sydney bit her lip, afraid of hurting him. "Are you sure?"

"Syd, it's going to hurt like hell no matter what we do, so let's just do it quickly," he begged.

She nodded reluctantly and helped him raise his arms over his head. His forehead creased in discomfort, but he didn't make a sound as he struggled to keep them up. Sydney saw him beginning to sweat from the exertion and worked frantically to pull the sweater up to his cast. Then, taking a deep breath, she yanked it the rest of the way. He hissed sharply and clenched his eyes shut, so Sydney immediately discarded the shirt and wrapped her arms around him. "You okay?" she breathed into his shoulder.

"Yeah," he gasped. "Hurts, though."

"I know," she murmured sympathetically. "I am so sorry, Vaughn," she added tearfully. "I hate this."

"I'm alright," he assured her softly.

She nodded again and quickly debated whether or not he needed a t-shirt. The last thing she wanted was for him to get sick on top of everything else, but the look of pain on his face nearly broke her heart. She couldn't make him go through that again. "I think we'll forego the shirt for tonight," she suggested. "Will you be warm enough?"

Vaughn managed to smile slightly and looked up at her with a teasing glint in his eyes. "You just want me shirtless," he murmured. "I know how you think."

Sydney rolled her eyes and forced him to lay back. "I'm not even going to touch that right now. Do you want anything to eat? There's probably not a whole lot but I can try to find us something if you're hungry."

Vaughn closed his eyes again and let his head rest against the pillow. "You should sleep, too," he sighed.

"You haven't eaten all day," she countered.

"I'm fine, Syd."

"Okay, well I'm hungry," she said, rising in frustration. She knew he was just trying to look out for her and the newest little addition to their lives, but as usual, he forgot about his own needs in favour of meeting hers. He couldn't even accept that right now he needed her help more than she needed his. "I'm going to find something to eat for myself, but if you're going to be stubborn, just go back to sleep," she demanded irritably.

"Sydney," he protested wearily. "I'm sorry. I know you're worried about me. I just don't want you to hurt yourself."

Sydney softened and sat back down next to him. "I know, but I'm not going to be able to relax until I know you're okay. So we're kind of stuck here."

"I am hungry," he conceded, too tired to argue further.

"Okay," she smiled, bending over to kiss his forehead. "Just rest and I'll be back in a few minutes."

As expected, the kitchen left much to be desired. Her father barely had time to arrange for a safe house between checking on Sydney and trying to determine a course of action to protect them from whoever tried to take Vaughn's life, so she wasn't expecting to find a well-stocked pantry. Most of the food was probably left over from the last people that used the house, but she did manage to find a box of pop-tarts and another of granola bars that didn't seem too ancient to be edible.

Walking back to the bedroom, she presented them with a mock flourish to an exhausted Vaughn. He smiled weakly at their limited choices and pointed to the pop-tarts. "Is this what we're living on for the next three days?" he asked as she handed him a packet and pulled out a granola bar for herself.

"I'll get Dad to send an agent with some real food," she assured him. "There's no way we can survive on just this, and I don't think we want to even think about eating anything else in that kitchen," she laughed.

"And you're eating for two," he reminded with a grin.

Sydney paused for a moment, stricken by his statement. She instinctively moved her hand to her stomach as though she might feel the baby currently growing inside. She knew it was way too early, but in all the frenzy and worry, she had barely had time to rejoice in the new life they created. "I guess I am," she agreed in wonder. "It's amazing, isn't it?" she asked softly.

Vaughn nodded solemnly, focusing intently on her face. "Incredible," he agreed.

"God, if I had lost you today…" she began with a trembling voice.

Vaughn quickly moved his hand to cover hers and shook his head, forbidding her to think about the possibilities. "You didn't," he promised.

"But Vaughn…"

"You didn't, Sydney," he repeated firmly. "And you won't. We're in this together."

She nodded, smiling a little for his sake. The thoughts still plagued her, however, and she suspected they would for quite some time. If he hadn't called her, if she hadn't been able to coax him out of the car, if he hadn't crawled out in time, she wouldn't be sitting here with him now. She would be mourning and making funeral arrangements instead of celebrating the miracle of a new life. "I guess I got two lives today," she murmured softly. Glancing over at him, she saw that he had finished eating and was struggling valiantly to stay awake for her. "Go to sleep," she commanded.

"You too," he argued.

Not even bothering to change clothes, she crawled beneath the covers, careful to avoid pressing against his sore ribs. She wanted to curl up next to him, but she was content with sharing a pillow for now, just until he was healed.

"I love you, Syd," he breathed as his eyes fluttered closed.

"Love you, too," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. She waited until the pain ebbed from his features and he slept peacefully, offered a small prayer of thanks to whoever protected all three of them, and then joined him in blissful unconsciousness.

_Sydney stood in the kitchen, standing back from the table to survey her work from an objective angle. Smiling proudly, she realised everything looked absolutely perfect. The lights were dimmed, and two candles sat on the table, ready to be lit as soon as he arrived. She'd been rushing around all day since leaving the medical facility, frantically cleaning the apartment and throwing together all of his favourite foods. The pasta sauce was ready, the bread baking in the oven, and the salads were already on the table. She'd even stopped at the bakery on her way home and picked up a cake, now chilling in the refrigerator. The phone began to ring and she cursed under her breath, realising she'd forgotten to call Weiss to ask him to pick up Vaughn at the airport. His flight wasn't due in for another twenty minutes, but knowing Vaughn, he'd probably gotten an earlier flight just to surprise her, and was calling to tell her he was in a cab on the way home._

"_Hello?" she answered nervously._

"_Hey Syd," a familiar voice greeted. _

"_Weiss! Thank God!" she gushed. "I need you to go pick up Vaughn at the airport. I wanted to surprise him with dinner and I'm not ready yet."_

"_Syd…" he began, his voice catching. _

_Sydney was too distracted and excited to even notice the hitch in voice as he spoke. "He should be here in twenty minutes if his plane is on time. He told me he'd call from New York, but I guess he didn't have time. Will you go get him and bring him back to my place?" she asked hurriedly._

_There was a long pause, and then Weiss spoke quietly. "Actually, we need you to come down to the ops centre, Sydney," he said seriously._

"_Weiss, I have the day off," she groaned. _

"_Sydney, it's important. Please, just…just get down here."_

"_Well what am I supposed to do about Vaughn? Seriously, Weiss, tell my dad I can't make it. He knows I wasn't feeling good, so just tell him I'm sick. Whatever it is can wait until Vaughn and I both get there tomorrow," she tried to reason with him._

"_It can't wait, Sydney."_

_She finally noticed the sadness in his voice, and her heart jumped to her throat. "What…what's going on, Weiss?" she asked anxiously, clinging tightly to the phone. _

"_It's about Vaughn."_

_That was all it took. Sydney slammed the phone down and grabbed her keys, forgetting all about the bread in the oven and the pasta sauce sitting on the stove. Without even bothering to change out of the slinky black dress she'd put on for him, she ran to her car and sped to the JTF._

_Jack met her as soon as she got off the elevator, and he looked at her in shock. He realised immediately that she and Vaughn had something special planned tonight, given her formal attire and the way her hair was arranged in a delicate chignon. "Dad!" she cried, rushing to him._

"_Sydney…" he began slowly, desperately seeking some way around the awful news. _

"_Dad, I need to know what's going on," she begged tremulously. "Please," she added._

"_There was an accident, Sydney," he managed to say. "In Paris."_

"_What kind of accident? Is Vaughn okay? God, I could just kill him for going alone," she ranted._

"_Sydney, Vaughn…Vaughn didn't make it." _

_Sydney just stared at him, unable to comprehend what he was telling her. "No," she shook her head. "Dad, no, that's not possible. He has to be okay."_

"_I'm so sorry, Sydney," her father said, reaching out to touch her gently on the arm. _

"_No!" she screamed, recoiling from his touch. "He can't be dead!" she pleaded. Weiss quietly joined them in the hallway, watching helplessly as she began to sob. "Dad, he can't be dead. I was supposed to go with him. He made me stay at home and he promised it would be an easy mission."_

"_It was a hit, Sydney," Weiss added. "There was nothing anyone could do. A truck slammed into the car and it caught on fire. If you had been with him, you would have died too."_

"_Daddy," she sobbed, desperate for comfort._

_Jack quickly wrapped his arms around her, not caring about anyone that may be watching. His daughter was quickly falling to pieces, and he was terrified that she wouldn't survive another loss. "Come on, Sweetheart," he whispered. "Let's get you home."_

_The next thing Sydney knew, she was curled up on her dad's sofa, wearing an old sweatshirt he'd probably owned since college. He sat next to her, trying in vain to offer some comfort. Her perfectly applied makeup now dripped down her cheeks, creating black rivers of anguish that darkened her pale face. The carefully placed strands of hair, once perfectly arranged in painstaking deliberation for his arrival, now fell haphazardly around her face. Jack kept one arm around her, trying to still her shaking body._

"_Daddy," she whispered brokenly. "Dad, he has to come back. He has to."_

"_I'm so sorry, Sweetheart," he said once more. It seemed to be the only phrase appropriate now. Nothing could take away her pain, and nothing could assuage the grief currently racking her thin frame. _

"_Dad, I didn't get to tell him. He was supposed to come home and it was going to be a surprise. Maybe if I called him…I was being so selfish. I just wanted it to be special, Dad."_

"_Tell him what, Sydney?" he asked softly, not even sure if she knew what she was saying at this point. _

"_That I'm pregnant, Dad. I'm going to have a baby." _

"Shh," a voice whispered in her ear. "It's okay. You're okay," it murmured.

Scared and confused, Sydney opened her eyes and found Vaughn hovering anxiously above her, concern practically dripping from his face. She suddenly realised she was crying uncontrollably, and she reached up to wipe away her tears. Once she did, fresh ones appeared, beginning a new wave of sobs.

"Sydney," Vaughn murmured in anguish. "What's wrong? Tell me what's wrong," he pleaded.

She cried his name and clung to him, so as carefully as he could, he sat her up and tried to hold her. It was difficult without the use of one arm, but he really couldn't care less about the physical pain compared to the sheer agony of watching her cry without knowing why or how to stop it. She buried her head in his chest, crying out of relief when she listened to the steady beat of his heart.

"You're okay, Syd," he tried to comfort her. "It's alright now."

She calmed down enough to pull away and wipe her face, though a steady stream of tears continued to trail silently down her cheeks. "You were gone," she whispered, afraid to speak the words aloud. "I was waiting for you at home, but you never came. They told me you died in the accident, and I never got the chance to tell you about the baby."

Vaughn clenched his eyes shut in pain, hating how this incident would haunt her forever. It should have been the happiest day of her life, and instead she'd been put through the ringer emotionally and physically. She'd flown halfway around the globe, terrified of what she would find in the hospital room, knowing exactly how much was at stake. She'd lost a man before, and he knew she blamed herself. He didn't even want to think about what would have happened to her if he had really died in the accident. "I'm sorry, Syd, but it was just a bad dream. That's all it was. I'm here, and I'm okay," he swore.

Sydney nodded mutely, unable and unwilling to voice the thoughts still swirling around in her head, so twisted and mangled from exhaustion and fear. She continued to cling to him, his injuries all but forgotten in the midst of her terror. "I can't do this without you," she murmured desperately.

"You're not going to have to," he promised her. "I wouldn't miss out on this for anything."

Slowly, she began to calm down, her breathing returning to normal and her fear abating with the rational thought consciousness brought. It took only a few seconds for her to realise what she was doing, and she immediately let go of Vaughn, moving back to examine any further harm she'd done to him. "Oh my God, Vaughn, I'm so sorry!" she apologised. "God, are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

"Relax," he soothed. "I'm fine. I'm more worried about you. You think you can go back to sleep?"

"You'll be here?" she asked timidly.

"I'll be here."


	3. Chapter 3

Sydney took a deep breath and allowed her eyes to wander up the walkway to the front door of the apartment she shared with Francie, and Will, on occasion, until the fall of the Alliance. When she and Vaughn finally returned from France, she sent Vaughn immediately to bed and checked the messages on the answering machine. Francie had left three, and Will had left one, plus another on her cell phone. Sydney immediately felt guilty for not even telling her friends about her impromptu trip to France, which apparently left them incredibly worried.

And it wasn't just the last five days that stirred up that old familiar feeling of guilt in her stomach. It settled in like a dead weight, entirely comfortable resting there inside of her and making her miserable. Guilt clearly knew its way around Sydney Bristow's body, and it didn't at all mind ruining the joy of being home again. Vaughn noticed her dour expression as he awkwardly dressed for work, and she confessed over breakfast that she grossly neglected her friends in the midst of all the excitement and change in her life. He promised her it was understandable, that Francie and Will wouldn't be angry with her for getting wrapped up in everything - the house, their relationship, the baby - and suggested that she take advantage of her day off to go see them. Since the four of them hadn't really spent a great deal of time together, he gave her full permission to tell them about the baby herself.

But now Sydney wished he was here with her. It was stupid and cowardly, but if she was completely honest with herself, she had pushed them out of her thoughts. She'd waited so long to finally kiss Vaughn, be held by Vaughn, go out to dinner and movies with Vaughn, and the instant that day arrived, she wanted to spend every moment making up for lost time. She was too excited and enchanted with her new life to take time out to call Francie to ask about the restaurant or to talk to Will about his work at the CIA. She still needed her friends, especially now with the baby, but she wasn't at all looking forward to the looks of hurt on their faces when she finally showed up without any good explanation for her sudden absence from their lives.

Sydney placed a hand on her stomach, still flat and evincing no signs of a baby growing beneath her palm, but she could still swear she felt the difference. It calmed her slightly and reminded her of why she needed to face her friends now. They had been her only family for as long as she could remember, and they should be a part of this new addition. Even though their role in her life diminished slightly as she and Vaughn began their own family, this baby _would _have an aunt and uncle.

With another steadying breath, she stepped out of the car and walked determinedly to the door. "Syd?" Francie asked incredulously, surprised by her friend's appearance in the middle of a work day.

"Hey," Sydney smiled. "Can I come in?"

"Of course!" Francie exclaimed. "It hasn't been that long since you lived here, has it?"

"No," Sydney shook her head. "It hasn't."

Will emerged from the kitchen and they all sat down on the couch. "Syd, don't take this the wrong way, but what the hell are you doing here?" he asked in confusion.

"Will!" Francie scolded.

"It's ok, Fran," Sydney assured her. "I'll explain everything, I promise, but first I just want to apologise for being such a horrible friend to you guys. I don't want to make excuses…there's just been so much going on."

"You don't have to apologise," Will said sincerely. "We're happy for you, Syd, really. You and Vaughn seem really happy."

"We are," Sydney smiled, unable to hide the sheer delirium she felt. And of course, Vaughn had been right. They weren't angry or accusing, and Will really did seem genuinely happy for her, unlike the time she told him about Danny's proposal. Whatever was happening between him and Francie, he was obviously happy as well, and the torch he carried for so long finally seemed to fade.

"So, what are you doing here?" Francie asked after a moment. "Where have you been the last few days?"

Sydney smiled sheepishly. "Actually, I've been in Paris. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you I was leaving; it was really sudden," she explained hurriedly. "Vaughn…Vaughn was on business there, and it was only supposed to be a few days. But on his way to the airport, his cab was hit by a truck."

"Oh my God," Francie gasped. "But he's okay? I mean, obviously, or you wouldn't be here, but is he hurt? Is he home?"

"Geez, Francie!" Will laughed. "I thought I was the reporter."

"You were," she rolled her eyes. "Until--"

"Later, Francie," Sydney cut her off, sparing Will the embarrassment of having his "drug addiction" brought up again. "And yes, Vaughn is fine. I was actually on the phone with him when it happened."

"Figures," Will smirked. "You two are joined at the hip."

Francie nudged him with her elbow, causing him to yelp in pain. Sydney just laughed and shook her head at their antics. Why was she ever nervous about talking to them? "As I was saying," she continued with a smile. "He was a little out of it, so I talked him out of the car right before it caught on fire. He still inhaled a little too much smoke, though. He broke his arm and bruised his ribs, but the smoke and the concussion were probably the worst of it," she explained, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice as she relayed his injuries. It was ridiculous to cry over it now that he was safe at home and already back at work, but the terror of those first few minutes on the phone, as well as the endless hours until he woke up and crawled into bed with her, still plagued her sleep.

"I'm so sorry, Syd," Francie apologised. "You must have been scared out of your mind."

"I was," she admitted. "But he's okay. I flew over right after the accident and spent a few days with him until he was ready to come home. But actually, that's not why I wanted to talk to you guys."

"What's going on, Syd?" Will asked in concern.

"It's good news," she assured him. "I know Vaughn and I haven't really been together that long, but we've cared about each other for a long time, and--"

"Oh my God!" Francie exclaimed excitedly. "You're getting married! You're engaged! Oh my God, when did he do it? In France? That's so romantic!"

"Okay, no more coffee for you," Will said dryly, pulling her back down to the couch.

"I'm not engaged, Francie," Sydney said calmly. "Not yet, at least. But probably soon. We're…we're umm…I'm pregnant," she finally blurted.

Her friends both stared at her in utter shock. She looked first to Francie, and then to Will, but neither offered any kind of response. The nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach rose to her throat as they sat in silence, and she wondered if they thought it was too soon, that she couldn't do this, that a baby would change absolutely everything. "Guys, say something," she begged them.

"I don't…" Will stammered. "I don't know what to say. I didn't think…I didn't expect…"

"It's great, Syd," Francie interjected, finally finding words. Her smile grew and tears formed in her eyes as she enthusiastically embraced Sydney. "Oh Syd," she cried. "I'm so happy for you and Michael. You must be so excited. How did he take it?"

"He was thrilled," Sydney gushed, the horrible weight in her stomach completely dissolved. "I found out the day of the accident. I probably shouldn't have told him right away," she laughed. "He wouldn't cooperate with the doctors at all. He wouldn't even stay overnight at the hospital."

"That's so adorable!" Francie squealed. "Oh, he's going to make such a good dad."

"I know," Sydney smiled. "The best."

The three of them spent the next hour or so catching up and talking about the baby, until Francie decided that the mommy-to-be should go home and rest. Normally Sydney would object, but she was still on Paris time and completely exhausted from the whole ordeal of the last week. She said her goodbyes, promising they would all get together soon so Francie could continue to drill them with questions and squeal over every detail.

"You look like hell, man," Weiss greeted Vaughn casually, almost as if it was a perfectly normal way to say hello to his best friend.

"Gee, thanks, Weiss," Vaughn rolled his eyes. "I feel like shit, so it's good to know I look the part as well."

"Are you sure you should be here?" Weiss raised an eyebrow, watching as Vaughn wearily took a seat at his workstation and began to flip awkwardly with his good hand through the papers threatening to topple over the side of his desk and onto the floor of the rotunda.

"Probably not," Vaughn sighed, "but Kendall didn't see it the same way, apparently."

"Are you surprised?" Weiss laughed. "So how's the future mommy? Is she coming in today?"

Vaughn frowned and looked up at his friend, narrowing his eyes in careful scrutiny. "How the hell do you even know about that? We haven't even told anyone besides her dad, and I highly doubt he called anyone, least of all _you._"

"Hey, Jack and I are good friends. I wouldn't be surprised if he has me on speed dial."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he shot you in the head for saying that," Vaughn retorted dryly. "Really, how did you know about Sydney?"

"Roberts told Perkins, who then told Marshall…"

Vaughn sighed again, raising his hand to massage his temple. He was beyond thrilled with the news of Sydney's pregnancy, and he couldn't wait to tell their friends and his mother, but he didn't plan on their private business becoming fodder for office gossip. "You know, for an intelligence agency, no one here can keep a secret," he remarked dryly. "And Sydney's fine. Her dad convinced Kendall to give her the day off. I'm glad he did, since she really doesn't need to be in here yet, but the lack of concern for my welfare…" he trailed off, still a little bitter that Jack didn't extend even a measure of courtesy. A part of him (the naïve, stupid part) hoped that their new kinship might grant him a few extra points in Jack's books, but he was proved sorely wrong with the early morning phone call ordering him into the office while Sydney slept soundly next to him.

"You mean you two didn't bond?" Weiss asked with mock incredulity.

"Yeah, imagine that," Vaughn chuckled. "Jack is such a warm, friendly guy."

Weiss looked up nervously and lowered his voice. "Look busy," he instructed. "The big teddy bear is on his way over."

Vaughn grasped for a report, clumsily knocking the whole stack over in the process. He attempted to recover gracefully, but the minute he bent over to pick up the scattered briefs, he slammed his arm into the desk and cried out in pain.

"Rough morning, Agent Vaughn?" Jack smirked slightly.

"Uh, yeah, a bit," Vaughn admitted sheepishly, his face flushing several varying shades of red as he made a complete ass of himself in front of Sydney's father and the future grandfather of his child. "My arm's still a little sore," he added unnecessarily.

"I would imagine so," Jack noted. "And how are the ribs?"

Vaughn frowned a little, lowering his eyes in suspicion at the unwonted gestures of concern. "Fine," he answered curtly, not at all in the mood to play these games today.

Jack eyed him skeptically. "You were in a major car accident four days ago. I doubt your ribs are 'fine,'" he remarked dryly.

"Yeah, well, it doesn't really matter. I have to be here, and they'll heal," Vaughn sighed.

"Who ordered you in today?" Jack questioned curiously.

"What?" Vaughn gaped. "I thought you did."

"No," Jack shook his head. "I assumed Kendall would put you on sick leave for a few days."

"Now you tell me," Vaughn rolled his eyes. "And no, he didn't give me sick leave. He called bright and early this morning to make sure I knew that I was expected in today."

"Go home," Jack dismissed him casually. "Take care of my daughter, and I'll expect you both tomorrow."

Vaughn continued to stare in confusion, incredibly confused by Jack's fatherly behaviour. In any other situation, it would be completely normal for his girlfriend's father to have a little sympathy, but unfortunately for him, Jack Bristow was his girlfriend's father. And Jack Bristow did not cut anyone any slack, especially if that person happened to be sleeping with his daughter. "Ok…" he said slowly, still making no move to get up.

"Don't look so surprised, Agent Vaughn," Jack said stoically. "Regardless of my personal objections, my daughter has chosen the person she wants to be with. Now that my grandchild is on the way, I suspect that you and Sydney will be getting married. While I don't entirely approve of her decisions, Sydney is an adult and I can't stop her."

"Don't sound too thrilled," Vaughn muttered under his breath.

"I have work to do," Jack responded, ignoring Vaughn's mumble. As soon as he disappeared, Vaughn grabbed his briefcase and shoved a few papers inside. He quickly shut down his computer and made his way over to Weiss' desk.

"Well, it looks like I'm headed home," he remarked cockily.

"What!"

"Jack's sending me home," he grinned. "I believe I just received the closest thing I'll ever receive to a ring endorsement from Jack Bristow, and it didn't even contain threats on my life."

"You are one lucky bastard," Weiss shook his head in disbelief.

"I know," Vaughn smiled. "He even mentioned marriage. I gathered that I don't really have a choice in the matter, but I guess it's something."

"So when are you popping the question?" Weiss asked casually.

"I don't know," Vaughn shrugged. "Not anytime soon. I mean, I was thinking of proposing on Christmas, but that's only two weeks away."

"And the problem with that is…?"

"Weiss!" Vaughn berated incredulously. "I can't ask her to marry me two weeks after we found out she's pregnant! Are you insane?"

"Why the hell not?" Weiss frowned in confusion.

"Then it'll sound like I only want to marry her because she's pregnant. I have to time this just right. And it's not like we're in any big rush now," he explained.

"She could still leave you," Weiss reminded. "Maybe she'll wise up and find a real man."

"Okay, I'm leaving," Vaughn informed him. "Enjoy your long day at work. Sydney and I will think of you while we're relaxing in front of the television."

"Relaxing, right," Weiss nodded knowingly. "You all obviously spend a lot of time 'relaxing' together."

"Goodbye, Weiss."

Vaughn shook his head in amusement as he returned to the parking garage and found his car. He probably wasn't supposed to be driving, since he only had full use of one arm, but he'd driven in worse conditions, and he couldn't just ask a cab to take him to the operations centre for the CIA. The house was a short drive from the JTF anyway, so he was home within thirty minutes.

Thinking she might be asleep, Vaughn parked his car next to hers in the garage and quietly entered through the back door. He slipped out of his shoes and padded silently down the hall, smiling to himself at the thought of crawling back into bed next to Sydney. "Syd?" he whispered as he pushed the door open. When he didn't find her in bed, he called her a name a little louder. "Sydney? You here?"

"In the bathroom!" she called sweetly. After a moment she poked her head out of the bathroom, her brown eyes dancing with delighted surprise. "What are you doing here?" she asked in disbelief.

Vaughn smiled and crossed the room, placing a sweet kiss on her lips. "Well don't be too happy to see me," he teased.

Sydney grabbed his waist and pulled him closer, stopping before their bodies met to ensure she didn't hurt him. She kissed him again, sighing into his mouth as she properly greeted him. "Hi," she murmured breathlessly when they separated for air.

"Hey," he smiled back. "That was a little more like it. But maybe we should try it one more time." He leaned forward again, and Sydney indulged him, lingering close after the kiss ended.

"So what _are _you doing here?" she inquired.

"Your dad sent me home, actually." He laughed at the look of shock on her face. "Yeah, that's about how I reacted."

"_My_ dad sent you home? Are you sure?"

"Hmm…tall, grey hair, cold, intimidating…yeah, I'm pretty sure it was your dad," he joked.

"Smartass," she quipped, smacking his uninjured arm.

"He was concerned about me," Vaughn shrugged. "Either that or he's plotting my assassination and wanted me as far away as possible."

"I hate to break it to you, Honey, but I'm afraid that explanation is far more plausible," she advised him.

"Yeah, you're probably right," he laughed. "What are you doing up? Shouldn't you be in bed? It's still pretty early."

"Vaughn, I'm fine," she rolled her eyes. "If you recall, you were the one who got hit with a truck. I'm having a baby. There's a big difference between the two." She still shuddered slightly at the mention of the truck, although she tried to cover it. Vaughn noticed, however, and grabbed her hand. "Sorry," she apologised meekly.

"No, don't be," he said gently. "It'll just be a while before I look at a truck the same way," he added dryly.

"Yeah, same here," she murmured, squeeze their joined hands. Then, trying to lighten the mood, she tugged him back to the bedroom. "I went to see Francie and Will right after you left," she informed him.

"How did it go?"

"It was really good," she smiled. "You were right. They weren't mad. Francie wouldn't even let me say two words before she was planning our wedding," she laughed, "but I think she might have liked the real surprise even better."

Vaughn blanched a little at the mention of marriage, not wanting to give anything away but still thrown by her offhanded comment. Sydney noticed his odd expression, but mistook it for pain.

"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly, placing a sweet kiss on his temple.

"I'm great," he answered softly. "But I'll be even better after we take a nice long nap."

Sydney happily obliged with his plan, and he sighed in relief that she didn't mention anything about getting married again. He tugged off his tie but decided against changing clothes, suddenly too tired to move. Sydney picked up on his exhaustion and lay down next to him, completely clothed herself. His arm wrapped around her waist, and she joined their hands once more.

"So I have to ask," she began with a smile.

"Ask away."

"Boy or girl?"

Vaughn lifted his head off the pillow to study her face. She was grinning deliriously, and he couldn't help mirroring her expression. It still felt a little surreal to be laying in bed next to her discussing their child. Sometimes he still woke up and was surprised to find her next to him, her head on his pillow as she continued to sleep. "Honestly, Syd," he said seriously, "I don't care at all. A year ago I couldn't even imagine what it would be like to actually_ be _with you, and now we're going to have a baby. It's just...as long as its healthy, I'll be happy."

Sydney kissed his nose and laid back on the pillow. "Same here," she agreed.

"Well, I know what we're going to have anyway," he teased.

"Oh yeah?" she laughed.

"Of course," he nodded seriously. "We're going to have a little girl, and she'll have your hair and your dimples, and she'll probably be stubborn as hell, but she'll be so adorable I'll never be able to say no to her."

Sydney laughed and kissed his cheek. "What if I think we're going to have a little boy with your eyes?" she challenged.

"Not happening," he shook his head. "Not this time, at least."

"Fine," she smiled. "But our little girl still has to have your eyes. I want all green-eyed children."

"Just as long as they don't get my nose."

"Aw," she chuckled, kissing the tip of his nose. "I think it's cute."

"Please don't ever say that around any of our friends, okay?" he teased. He punctuated the sentence with a yawn, suddenly remembering how tired he was.

"C'mere," Sydney murmured lowly.

Vaughn happily closed the space between them and allowed her to wrap her arms around him. It felt nice to have the tables turned, with her holding him instead of the other way around, and he thoroughly relaxed, pushing away all thoughts of work and stress in favour of living in this moment for all it was worth.

"Vaughn?" Sydney asked suddenly, a slight hint of trepidation in her voice.

He pulled back just far enough to see her face, still close enough to share the same air. "What's wrong, Syd?" he asked in concern.

"Nothing's wrong," she assured him quickly. "I was just thinking...I don't know, since we found out, I guess, about what this will mean when it comes to work."

Vaughn nodded seriously, believing he understood her anxieties. "It will change things," he acknowledged. "You know you'll have to be on desk duty in a few months, and then...I'm not naive enough to think you won't want to go back, at least until we've captured Sloane and your mother. But we can talk about that later."

"That's not what I'm talking about," she shook her head. "Vaughn, our parents were spies, and look at us. We both got sucked into this world because of them, and you know it will be the same for our child."

"Sydney..." he interrupted, not sure what he wanted to say but not at all wanting to follow this topic of conversation now.

"Vaughn, please," she begged him. "We have to talk about this. If you're too tired, it can wait, but we do need to talk about it."

"I'm not too tired, Syd," he promised quietly. "It's just not something I want to think about. It's not something I thought I ever Iwould/I think about," he admitted.

"I know," she nodded. "When I imagined myself having kids, I didn't picture myself working for the CIA. And I never pictured the fathering being a CIA agent as well." At his raised eyebrow, she quickly qualified her statement. "I wouldn't change anything," she assured him. "I can't imagine it being any other way now. It's just..."

"Unexpected," he nodded. "It's okay, Syd. I didn't ever plan on falling in love with a crazy double agent, but I'm glad that I did," he said lightly.

She smiled sweetly, but her grin disappeared as the moment passed. "Vaughn, there are people out there that want nothing more than to hurt us. We're already vulnerable because of each other," she said softly. "As long as we're still a part of this world, we have to consider the possibility of our enemies using our child as a pawn."

Vaughn's eyes immediately darkened at her suggestion. Of course he had thought of the same thing himself, but he didn't want to voice it. Despite the fact that Sydney had been manipulated, treated like a strategical move instead of a child, it still seemed too awful to even consider someone using a baby - Ihis/I baby - as a means to hurt him. But she was right, and they had seen it firsthand. They saw it when Sloane murdered Danny to teach Sydney a lesson, when Irina played on her daughter's affections only to deceive her once again, and even when Sark blackmailed her into handing up Sloane's life in order to receive the cure for the virus. In the world of espionage, attachments were the greatest weakness, and anyone that wanted to get to Sydney or Vaughn would first attempt to hurt their child. Before the baby was even born, he knew he would give up any secret for his or her sake.

"I know it's a long way off," Sydney interjected quietly, breaking him from the troublesome reverie. "I just think we should have a plan."

"It is a long way off," he agreed. "Let's just sleep for now, okay?" he asked quietly.

"Sure," she nodded. "You should rest." She tightened her hold on him and buried her head in his chest.

"I love you," he murmured just before drifting off. He felt her eyes watching him carefully, but he was too tired to insist that she sleep as well. For now, he was content to sleep in her arms, knowing she would be here when he woke up.


	4. Chapter 4

"Ugh, I really hate you right now," Sydney groaned as she sat down across from Francie. Her friend raised her eyebrows innocently and pretended not to know what she was talking about, even as she took another sip from the white and green steaming cup. "As if it's not bad enough I have to fix it for Vaughn every morning, you sit here and rub it in," she complained, sticking out her lower lip in a grumpy pout.

"Oh please," Francie rolled her eyes. "You are absolutely glowing, Girl. You've got a _gorgeous_ boyfriend, and you're three months pregnant. Forgive me if I'm not feeling sorry for you just because you can't have caffeinated coffee," she remarked dryly.

Sydney couldn't help smiling a little at Francie's good-natured teasing - she _was_ incredibly lucky. Almost three months pregnant, she was finally looking forward to the second trimester and the end of her nausea, and Vaughn had been absolutely amazing.There were times she grew tired of his constant worry and coddling, but he knew her well enough to know when to back off, and for the most part, he gave her space when she needed it. They had spent the months since learning about her pregnancy just enjoying one another and the joy of expecting a baby, and the new little addition gave them plenty of reasons to stay home together. She and Vaughn decided she would resign as a field agent in another month or two, and pick up her rating again when the baby was old enough to stay with a sitter for the better part of the day.

For now, she kept up with her work, although her father made sure not to send her out on too many missions. After the accident, Sydney made Vaughn vow not to go on any assignments without her, so he was spending more time at home as well. She thought she would hate not being on the go all the time, but she actually found herself enjoying leisurely weekends at the beach and at the movies, and if not for Sloane and her mother, she might actually consider quitting the agency altogether.

Francie forgave her for neglecting their friendship at the beginning of her pregnancy, but now she insisted on seeing Sydney at least once a week. Work had been slow all week, so she took Thursday afternoon off to meet Francie for lunch and shopping before she planned to meet Vaughn for a special dinner. If she was at all bored with the recent lack of missions, Francie more than made up for it with her shopping agenda, which usually wore her out every bit as much as any operation her father or Kendall could design. Though she was only three months pregnant, she had already purchased several essential items, as well as a few adorable little unisex outfits that Francie insisted she buy. For now, she refused to shop in any of the maternity stores, swearing that she would only resort to that when absolutely necessary. For now, she left the top button of her jeans open and wore loose-fitting shirts, though there was only a tiny bulge to disguise at present.

"So where is Michael taking you tonight?" Francie asked curiously, taking another sip of her coffee while Sydney glared at her over the rim of her tea mug.

"He won't tell me," she answered. "I heard him making the reservation, though, and he was speaking in French," she shrugged.

"Okay, stop talking," Francie ordered. "He is just too perfect."

"Francie," she laughed self-consciously. "He's not perfect," she insisted. "Close, but not quite. And his mother is French. He was born there, so of course he speaks French."

"Speaking of his mom," she began conspiratorially.

"Francie," Sydney scolded. "No, he hasn't told her yet. I was hoping maybe that was why he wanted to take me out somewhere nice tonight. He promised to talk to her sometime this week."

"And you haven't asked?" Francie drilled incredulously.

"He's been busy, Fran. I know he'll do it. He and his mom are really close, so he just wants to make it special, I think. He's an only child, like me, so this is a really big deal to his mom."

Francie nodded in understanding, and then raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "So, when is he popping the question?"

"Francie!" Sydney cried. "You're impossible," she laughed.

"What? It's a valid question!" she defended herself.

"I don't know," Sydney admitted. "We haven't really talked about it. We did before we found out about the baby, but I think it's all just been so much to take in. I'm sure he'll do it eventually."

Francie nodded uncertainly and took another sip of her coffee. Sydney lowered her eyes and eyed her friend suspiciously.

"Francie, he will," she insisted.

"I know, I know," Francie nodded. "It just sounds like you're trying to convince yourself."

"That's ridiculous," she shook her head. "I'm not worried."

Sydney expertly changed the subject as she finished her tea, and then suggested that they hit one more store before she had to go home and get ready to meet Vaughn. She tried not to let Francie see how unnerved she was by their conversation, but in truth, she _was_ trying to convince herself that he would eventually propose. Every weekend when he took her out, she was just sure he was going to ask. But he never did. He took her out to fancy restaurants, spent the entire evening treating her like royalty, and then took her home and never said a word about marriage or the future or long-term commitment. At nearly three months pregnant, she still found her ring finger woefully unadorned, but she hated herself for feeling so insecure just because he hadn't asked her to marry him.

They ran in one last store before leaving the mall, and then Francie drove her back to the house. Vaughn was already home and waiting for her, though his shirt was untucked and his tie discarded somewhere between the living room and the bedroom. For a man that practically lived in a suit and tie, he certainly hated the constricting clothing, and always shed the tie before he even made it into the bedroom. They still had another two hours before their reservation, so they showered together and took their time getting ready.

The restaurant was spectacular, and the food was absolutely amazing, but even Sydney would admit that listening to him speak in French was the best part of the whole evening. The earlier conversation with Francie completely forgotten, Sydney thoroughly enjoyed her evening and didn't even think about his mom or wedding rings. The vague feeling of unease remained in the back of her mind, but it was hard to worry about anything at all when he looked at her so intensely and openly demonstrated his affection in the sweetest ways possible. At least for tonight, it didn't matter if she was wearing an engagement ring; the world knew she belonged to him.

"Morning, Beautiful," Vaughn greeted happily as Sydney breezed into the kitchen.

"Vaughn," she chastised. "You let me sleep through the alarm again."

"You need the sleep," he countered leaning across the bar to give her a quick peck on the lips before turning back to the eggs he was scrambling on the stove. "And your dad called…the debrief was postponed until tomorrow, so we don't need to get to work early."

Sydney's eyes scanned his body, noting that he was already dressed and ready for work. "Why were you up so early?" she asked curiously, taking a seat at the barstools arranged in front of the counter.

Vaughn scooped some eggs onto the plate and passed it to her. "Couldn't sleep," he shrugged. "Orange juice?" She nodded, and he retrieved the carton from the fridge.

"Still not sleeping?" she asked in concern. For the last week or so he had seemed incredibly restless, and several nights in a row she woke up to find his place in bed empty and the sheets cool to the touch. She usually found him sitting in the living room going over some work or watching ESPN, and it bothered her that he didn't care to explain why he was up in the middle of the night.

"It's no big deal, Syd," he assured her.

"You're worried," she deduced easily.

Vaughn sat down next to her and took a bite of his own eggs. "About what?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Why don't you tell me?"

"Honestly, Syd, I'm not worried," he answered earnestly. "Sometimes I just don't sleep. I'll be fine in a few days."

Sydney frowned and reached out to touch the lines etched into his face. He looked absolutely exhausted, despite the happy smile that seemed permanently fixed on his features now. "Vaughn, you can't keep doing this," she protested. "Maybe you should go to med services and see if they can give you something."

"Sydney, really, I'm fine. We have the weekend off, so I'll relax then. Okay?" he asked with a tiny grin.

"Fine," she sighed. "Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly. "What did your mom say?" she asked excitedly. "I can't believe I forgot to ask you about that!" she berated herself. "Francie wore me out shopping yesterday, and it completely slipped my mind. Was she happy? Is she going to come visit soon?"

Vaughn frowned a little, taking another swig of his orange juice. "I haven't told her yet, Syd," he admitted.

"What?" she asked incredulously. "Vaughn, you promised."

"I know," he sighed. "We've just been busy, Syd. There's so much going on right now."

Sydney stopped eating, stung. He had been so happy about telling everyone else, and he made such a big deal of announcing the pregnancy to Will and Francie and their other friends. She'd been begging him for weeks now to at least call his mom and let her know she was going to be a grandmother in a few months, and he always came up with some excuse. Sydney was beginning to think she would never even meet Vaughn's mom, and the fact that he avoided calling once more left her feeling wounded and disappointed. Maybe it was silly of her, but she just kept daydreaming about meeting Celia and going shopping for the baby together. Granted the history between her family and Vaughn's, their first official reception would probably be cordial, at best, but Sydney was still dying to meet the woman that raised Vaughn. Before her talk with Francie, she had been able to dismiss her nagging doubts as the result of pregnancy hormones, but the fact that someone else noticed his reluctance to commit really bothered her.

"You're too busy to call your mom?" she asked quietly. "We've found the time to tell everyone else."

"I just forgot, Syd," he shrugged uncomfortably, obviously trying very hard to avoid her pointed scrutiny. "I think she plays bridge on Thursdays anyway," he reasoned. "She probably wasn't even home."

No longer hungry, Sydney pushed her plate away and stood up. "I'm going to take a shower," she announced coolly.

"Syd," he pleaded. "Come on, finish eating."

"I've lost my appetite," she answered calmly.

"Sydney, I was busy," he tried to explain again. "I have a lot on my mind. By the time I remembered it was getting late, and I didn't want to bother her."

"Bother her?" Sydney asked incredulously. "Well, it's good to know that telling your mother about our baby will just be an annoyance to her, and apparently, an inconvenience to you."

"Syd…"

"Honestly, Vaughn," she shot back in exasperation. "What are you going to do? Send her a card that says, 'Surprise! You're a grandma!' Or will you just wait until our child's first or second birthday before you decide to tell your mom?"

"Sydney, it's not like that," he sighed wearily. "Come on, let's not fight."

"I've been asking you for weeks, Vaughn! I'm beginning to think you don't want her to know about this," she spat bitterly, horrified to find tears stinging her eyes. She angrily wiped them away, damning her hormones for making her look like an emotional fool. She was trying to keep her cool here and make a point, and now she was going to end up crying in the middle of the kitchen.

"What the hell does that mean?" Vaughn shot back. "What reason would I possibly have for not telling my mom?"

"You tell me!" she shouted.

"You're being ridiculous," he argued. "Would you just sit down and finish your breakfast so we can talk about this rationally?"

"No, I won't," she answered firmly. "I want you to tell me right now why you couldn't call your mom last night and let her know that your girlfriend is pregnant," she challenged him.

"It's just not something I want to tell her on the phone!" he shouted. "God, Syd. She's my mother. I don't want to casually call her up and just happen to mention that I'm going to be a dad. She's waited a long time for this, and I want it to be special. I don't want it to be some last minute phone call. Is that so bad?" he asked in frustration.

"You've had plenty of time to do this," she protested. "If you wanted to make it special, you could have. Instead, you just keep putting it off, like it's some horrible secret." Vaughn's face sank at her words, and she gasped in horror. "Oh God," she cried. "Is that it? Does this have something to do with my mom?"

"Your mom? Sydney, this is crazy," he shook his head. "Why would this have anything to do with your mom?"

"Maybe you don't want your mom to know that this baby's other grandmother was responsible for killing your father," she answered quietly. "Is that it? You think your mom is going to be upset?"

"Syd, please stop," he begged. "You're blowing this way out of proportion. It was just a phone call. I'll do it this weekend, okay?" he tried to placate.

"Answer the question," she demanded, ignoring his attempt at a truce.

"Of course not!" he answered heatedly, quickly growing angry over her refusal to drop the subject. "Syd, I've told you before; what your mother did to my father has nothing to do with us. Our baby will only be related to her biologically, just like you."

"But that's enough, isn't it?" she challenged.

"Stop, Sydney," he warned her.

"You were so excited about this, Vaughn. And now suddenly you won't say a word to your own mother," she pointed out tearfully. "And it's because of my mom. Because of who I am. You don't want to tell your mom because she's going to be disappointed that you let it go this far," she cried.

"This is insane," he stated angrily, abandoning his own food. "I don't know where the hell this is coming from. I haven't done anything to indicate that I'm ashamed of our baby. And if you don't know by now that I love you and I don't _care _who your mother is, then you probably never will," he remarked bitterly.

"Get out," she demanded.

"Sydney--"

"Get out!" she shouted again.

Vaughn rose and shoved the stool back under the bar. "I can't believe this," he muttered under his breath. He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and retrieved his keys from the basket by the door. "You're being ridiculous," he told her again. "I don't know where this is coming from, but when you calm down enough to realise that what you're saying is totally irrational, we'll talk." He stalked out the door, slamming it as he left.

Sydney dissolved into tears as she heard him get in his car and drive away. She hated fighting with him, and she hated that he left still mad at her. She wasn't sure why exactly she ordered him to leave, except for the horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her he didn't want his mother to know about her. Of course, it would be perfectly understandable that he didn't want to tell his mom her grandchild would also be related to the woman that killed her husband, but she couldn't stand to look at him anymore knowing that he was embarrassed.

It all made sense, now that she thought about it. They'd talked of marriage, even if it was only in the abstract, before they found out she was pregnant. But a baby was more concrete. A baby was now, instead of some day down the road. If they waited longer to have children, if they got married first and let his mom get used to the idea of allowing Irina Derevko's daughter into her family, then maybe things would be different. He never talked about getting married anymore, and seemed to shy away anytime anyone so much as hinted a wedding or engagement.

The tears of self-pity continued to roll down Sydney's cheeks as she remembered their conversations about the future. Before the baby, living together, and just genuinely enjoying one another, was more than enough. She wanted to play it by ear and naturally evolve to that point in their relationship. It seemed inevitable that she would spend her life with this man; nothing in her life ever felt as easy or real as loving him. From the casual, playful banter they shared over toast in the mornings to the passionate intimacy at night, they belonged together. Now that a baby entered the picture, completing the perfect connection they shared, she expected him to suggest making this official. She was always imagined herself married to the father of her children, but maybe she'd taken too many things for granted and never considered the possibility that their visions were incongruous. Her goals had been his goals, and vice versa, for so long…what if Vaughn wanted something else? What if having a baby made him realise this wasn't what he wanted anymore?

The stress of the morning suddenly coincided with her body's reminder that there was in fact a baby growing inside of her, and the familiar nausea washed over her. She dashed to the bathroom just in time to throw up the minimal contents of her stomach, sobbing again as she weathered the vomiting alone. He always sat with her and rubbed her back, held her hair behind her face as she threw up her breakfast. When she finally finished, she was running late for work, and barely even had time to shower. She quickly brushed her teeth and jumped in the shower, trying to scrub off the dark thoughts still plaguing her mind.

An hour later, she snuck into the rotunda, hoping no one noticed that she was late, or that she looked like hell. She threw her makeup on in the car, and her eyes remained puffy and red from crying all morning. A huge stack of papers greeted her, and she sighed aloud as she dropped her purse into the drawer and pulled out her glasses.

"Good morning, Syd," Weiss greeted a few minutes later.

"Morning, Weiss," she answered tiredly, not even looking up from the report she was reading.

"Your dad was looking for you earlier. Where have you been hiding this morning?" he asked, oblivious to her foul mood.

"I just got here," she sighed.

Weiss finally took notice of her haggard appearance and plopped down unceremoniously into the chair at the empty desk next to hers. "I already know there's trouble in paradise," he advised her. "So are you going to tell Uncle Weiss what's up or am I going to have to resort to Jack Bristow-esque torture techniques to drag it out of you?" he asked calmly, casually leaning against the desk. He either missed the ever-expanding mound of paperwork currently holding her hostage, or he simply cared more about learning the latest gossip than allowing her to finish her work. Sydney guessed the latter. "Man, you and Mike are perfect for each other. You've got the whole Heathcliff thing going on with the brooding and the sulking and the 'I will get revenge on you and your kin.' Well, maybe not that last part, but definitely the brooding and sulking."

Sydney removed her glasses and laid them next to the keyboard, massaging the tension knotted around her temple that always seemed to get a little worse when Weiss insisted on breaking her concentration. Not that her focus was directed towards anything productive this morning, but his intrusion did interrupt the incessant cogitations rolling around in her mind and demanding her complete attention. "Emily Bronte, Weiss?" she asked wearily.

His brow furrowed and he looked at her in confusion. "Who? I thought Juliette Binoche was in that movie. You know, the French chick?"

Sydney's headache got a little worse. "Pregnant lit major, Weiss," she reminded pointedly. "And as much as I'd love to socialise, I've got about three years of work to catch up on. At this rate, my baby's going to be born in the break room between briefings."

"Ew, mental image, Syd," he groaned. "Couldn't you use an office or something where I don't refill my coffee every hour?"

"Weiss," she warned, growing frustrated quickly. Her irritation with Vaughn now seemed to extend to his friends as well, and she just wanted to get back to playing the morning over and over again in her head.

Weiss sobered at her sour expression and decided to take a different approach. Apparently humour was not an appropriate choice this morning, especially since Sydney's pregnancy hormones and caffeine withdrawals made her slightly less than chipper. "Look, Syd, blind Tom could see there's something wrong between you two."

"Blind Tom?" she asked innocently. "I'm not sure I know him."

"Ooh, Bristow's getting lippy," he raised an eyebrow. "You know, he's been looking just as gloomy and upset as you, Sydney, and we all know that paperwork's not going anywhere until one of you cracks. So I'll ask again: Anything you want to tell me?"

Sydney glanced around at her co-workers, all suspiciously interested in the computer monitors. "Not here," he sighed. "Let me e-mail this report and we can go downstairs and grab some horrible decaf coffee."

Weiss chuckled at the look of disgust on her face, well aware of her firm anti-decaffeinated beverage stance. He loved and truly valued his friendship with Sydney, but he was glad she was Vaughn's girlfriend. He'd hate to be the one reminding her not to touch the coffee at 6 AM. She shut down her computer and stood slowly, still battling the nausea that seemed to last all day now. Weiss grabbed her arm to steady her and followed her down to the cafeteria, leading her to a table and instructing her to stay put while he ordered.

Sydney gratefully accepted the steaming coffee he offered as a peace offering and took a long, slow sip. At least she could still pretend to drink real coffee. Weiss watched her carefully, not wanting to push too hard, lest she explode and just exacerbate the situation. "Does Vaughn ever talk about…us?" she finally asked.

"Uhh…yeah…" he answered tentatively, a little worried about where this was going.

"Does he…does he wanted to get married?" she stammered, stumbling over the words she hadn't actually dared to mutter aloud since France.

"Sydney, I don't understand," Weiss said simply, frowning in consternation.

"He hasn't said anything, Weiss," she whispered tremulously. She held her cup close, absorbing its warmth as she fought a shiver. "I thought he wanted to marry me, but now we only talk about the future when we talk about the baby." One hand fluttered to her stomach, seeking out the increasing curve where her child grew. She was still barely showing, but to her, the swell was obvious.

"Sydney," Weiss sighed, shaking his head. "You NEED to talk to him," he stated seriously. "Vaughn is crazy about you. Really. I've never seen him like this, and I've known him a long time. You're it for him. You can't tell me you don't see that."

Sydney looked down, ashamed for some reason. "I do," she said softly. "I know he loves me. I just don't understand, Weiss," she trembled desperately. "What am I doing wrong? Why doesn't he want to marry me?" Tears sprang to her eyes once more and she wiped them away sheepishly. Usually only Vaughn saw her cry, but lately, she was so susceptible to breakdowns that any audience was fair game for her waterworks.

Weiss reached across the table and claimed Sydney's hand, squeezing it tightly in a noble attempt to comfort her. "Hey," he murmured. "You haven't done anything. This is all a misunderstanding, Syd. Nothing more than that. You need to talk to him. Please promise me you'll talk to him. Take a long lunch or something and tell him what's going on." Sydney nodded, unable to speak for the time being. "What did you fight about this morning?" he prodded gently.

"His mom," she managed. "He hasn't called her and I just…I freaked out, Weiss. I thought it was just another indication…"

"Just talk to him," Weiss urged once more, knowing Vaughn would immediately assuage all her fears and melt the tension created by her uncertainty and insecurity, and then probably feel like a total ass for not seeing it before. "He really loves you, Syd, and he's so excited about this baby. You just need to tell him how you feel, because I guarantee you he has no idea."

"Okay," she agreed weakly, nodding her head in acceptance of his suggestion. "I should get back to work if I'm going to take a long lunch," she sighed. She gathered her jacket and coffee and looked at Weiss appreciatively. "Thank you, Weiss," she said meaningfully.

"Hey, it makes my life a hell of a lot easier when you two will actually speak to each other. I'm just looking out for my own sanity here," he grinned.

"Well then, thank you for being selfish," she chuckled. "I'll see you later."

Weiss just shook his head, amazed by the complexities of this relationship. Vaughn had been concocting plans for months now, and then put them on hold lest she draw assumptions about the timing of his proposal. He couldn't have possibly predicted her reaction, and of course Sydney said nothing, allowing her fear and doubt to slowly simmer beneath the surface, only to leak out as anger and irritation. No wonder they looked so miserable.

Tossing out his coffee cup, Weiss returned to the bullpen, not quite ready to resume his work. He easily located Vaughn, who was still trying in vain to look hard at work. "That report interesting?" Weiss asked, glancing at the briefing Vaughn was reading.

"No, not really," Vaughn answered without bothering to look up.

"Really? Because it's the same on you were reading…" Weiss trailed off, looking at his watch. "Over an hour ago. Must not be TOO bad."

Realising he was caught, Vaughn leaned back in his chair and looked up at his smirking friend. "What do you want, Eric?" he growled irritably.

"Nice way to greet your best friend."

"Are you just here to rub in how horrible this day has already been? Because it's only eleven, and I wish I just hadn't gotten up this morning, so anything else you say would really just be superfluous, unless you're hoping to get a head start on tomorrow."

"Have you ever seen that movie with the French chick--"

"What do you want, Weiss!" Vaughn demanded again.

"I just thought you might want to know your girlfriend's really upset, but I don't think you're really interested…" Weiss began.

"Weiss," Vaughn sighed, listlessly throwing his pen at the desk. "Look, I'm sorry. It's been a really shitty day." He looked imploringly to his best friend, hoping he hadn't ruined his chances of hearing what Weiss had to say. He felt bad for using Eric for information on Sydney, but at this point, he didn't know what else to do.

Weiss pulled up a chair and sat down across from Vaughn. "Whatever happened between you two, she's not trying to be difficult. You need to talk to her, but I will tell you she's really shaken up. She promised she would come to you, but if she doesn't, please, just go to her," he beseeched.

Vaughn's anger melted away, replaced by the familiar protectiveness so instinctive when it came to her. She really pissed him off this morning with her absurd accusations, but the thought of her hurting and upset tore him apart. Had he been too wrapped up in his own frustration to notice something really wrong? More importantly, could she forgive him and let him help her after their rather passionate argument? "Is she okay?" he asked worriedly. "Where is she?" He grabbed the back of his chair, ready to jump up and search for her right this second.

"Whoa, Casanova, cool it," Weiss calmed him. "She's fine. She said she'd take a long lunch with you, so give her another hour."

Vaughn nodded and relaxed in his seat, though his face remained taut with concern. "Thanks, Eric," he said dismissively. Weiss clapped him on the back and finally returned to his own oppressive stack of work.

Vaughn tried to focus on chipping away at the reports so he might actually get home at a decent hour, but he couldn't help wondering if he'd have another lonely commute and a long, restless night on the couch. Maybe if he grovelled enough, she would forgive him and curl up in his arms as they reconciled. He grinned a little, remembering the perks of fighting with Sydney. Then, feeling guilty for lusting after her before even resolving their issues, he forced himself back to work.

A little before noon, Vaughn caught the unmistakable whiff of her gardenia perfume and her strawberry shampoo and looked up to see her standing timidly in front of his desk. He might have chuckled at her nervous expression in any other situation, but currently, he felt sickened by her sudden discomfort with him.

"Do you have a minute?" she asked uncertainly.

"Syd, of course," he smiled reassuringly, the anger of the morning completely dissipated as he stood up next to her. Despite the colleagues all around, he couldn't resist brushing away the pesky strand of hair perpetually in her face and kissing her forehead. "Are you okay?" he asked softly. "Weiss told me you were upset about something. I was worried."

Sydney seemed slightly taken aback by his tenderness, still expecting a chip on his shoulder after their heated argument. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "Are we okay?"

Vaughn smiled again, his expression soft, and took hold of her hand. "We're always okay, Sydney," he assured her. "No matter what stupid fights or ridiculous arguments we have, we will _always _be okay."

His words brought fresh tears to her eyes, and this time, he laughed just a little. Wiping at the moisture on her cheeks, he pulled her into a rather conspicuous embrace in the middle of the ops centre. He really didn't care who was watching; at least a public reconciliation would kill the vicious rumours already circulating about the status of their relationship. "I'm sorry," Sydney choked, crying into the shoulder of his navy blue suit. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"It's okay, Syd," he soothed. "You're pregnant. You're entitled to unexplained bouts of crying," he teased.

"Can we just get out of here?" she asked.

"Sure. You need your jacket or anything?"

Sydney nodded and let Vaughn retrieve it for her while she cleaned off the remaining tears and gathered her composure again. She shouldn't be surprised by his big heart and capacity for forgiveness after all this time, but she knew she'd been incredibly unfair this morning and expected him to at least act a little perturbed by her sudden change of heart.

Vaughn returned and draped her jacket over her shoulders, and then wrapped his arm around her affectionately. They both breathed a sigh of relief at the ease with which they slipped back into old habits. He had grown much bolder in his loving demonstrations at work, fully taking advantage of Jack's reluctant acceptance. While the older agent still shot him death glares from time to time, he also understood the unspoken familial bond created by the baby.

They walked silently to Vaughn's car, neither needing to say a word about lunch. He helped her inside, noting the pale complexion trademark of her morning sickness. He didn't hear her throw up this morning, but suspected that he missed that part of her routine.

"This okay?" he asked as he pulled up to an outdoor café not far from the office.

"Perfect," she answered. "I'm starving."

"Did you keep any breakfast down?" he inquired, feeling guilty for not knowing the answer.

"If you count the decaf latte I had with Weiss as breakfast, then yes, I did," she said wryly.

"Somehow I doubt reminding you that it should go away in a few weeks will really make it any more bearable," he commented apologetically. He hated being sick and couldn't begin to imagine handling the nausea like she did. They spent most mornings in the bathroom waiting for the heaves to subside, and then just relaxing for a few minutes while he massaged her tired, sore muscles. "I'm sorry I wasn't there this morning when you got sick" he added remorsefully.

"I'm the one that kicked you out," she reminded him.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Let's order first," she suggested. "I'll be able to think better when I know food is on the way."

They chatted pleasantly as the perused the menus and placed their orders, catching up on the day's events since they hadn't talked all morning. Sydney remembered again why her fears were largely unsubstantiated. As much as she loved Francie and Will, Vaughn was her best friend now. He knew every part of her, even the hidden secrets not even her closest friends or her father knew. She loved talking to him and just hearing the mundane details of his day.

Once the waitress disappeared, Vaughn sobered, though his smile remained. Despite the unresolved tension, she looked so relaxed and content now. Her face regained some colour, along with a radiant glow enhanced by the sun, and her eyes appeared bright and clear. A twinge of pride bubbled up in his chest, and he couldn't wait until she showed a little more and the world knew she chose him. In less than a year, a high chair would sit around the table as well, a beautiful little girl or boy giggling happily and reaching for him or Sydney. And that's how he knew they would get through whatever upset her; he could see their future. "You're beautiful," he told her simply.

Sydney blushed self-consciously and looked down at her rather plain suit, the top button of her pants open and her oversized white oxford concealing the slight protrusion of her stomach. She hadn't yet resorted to maternity clothes, and her makeshift outfit hardly fit the workplace chic bill. The added weight didn't really concern her, but she certainly didn't feel beautiful at the moment. "You're crazy," she laughed in self-deprecation.

"No, I'm serious," he countered. "You look amazing, although I will admit I'm a little biased."

Sydney stared at him seriously, her gaze steady and penetrating. After a moment of studying his features, she looked away, shaking her head in disbelief. "I don't deserve the way you look at me," she said quietly. "Especially after the way I acted this morning."

"Sydney," he breathed sympathetically. "It was one argument. It doesn't change anything, okay?"

"Okay. But I'm still sorry. I was horrible this morning. I understand why you want to wait to tell your mom, and I know you're not ashamed of the baby. I shouldn't have brought my mother into it. I'm really not sure why I did," she admitted.

Vaughn flinched a little at the mention of Irina Derevko for the second time today, but he grabbed her hand under the table anyway. "Maybe you need someone you can talk to about motherhood," he suggested gently. "I was thinking about it earlier when I was pretending to do my work," he grinned. "This must be so crazy for you. Most women talk to their moms, and you don't have that. You really don't have anyone that knows how you feel. It's my fault for not realising earlier why you felt so strongly about telling my mom, and if you want to talk to her, I'll set it up," he promised. "I was actually thinking of driving down there to see her when we get a free weekend so we could tell her in person. That's why I was putting it off, but I didn't want to tell you because you know how our work schedules can get. I didn't want to plan it and then disappoint you."

"Vaughn," she whispered in awe. "Thank you so much. You have no idea how much that means to me. And you're right; I think there is a part of me that wants your mom to be a replacement for mine. But honestly, that's not why I got so upset," she confessed, taking a deep breath. "I got scared when you seemed reluctant to tell her about the baby because I felt like you might be putting it off for another reason."

"Why wouldn't I want to tell her, Syd?" he prodded. "You know I'm thrilled about this baby. I want to rent a skywriter or something," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Because I thought maybe you weren't thrilled about me," she finally said, her voice so soft he had to lean closer to hear.

"What?" he asked in alarm. "Syd, why would you think something like that?"

"It's so stupid," she shook her head sadly.

"Have I done something wrong, Sydney?" he asked, almost afraid of her answer. "Did I do something to make you think that?"

"No," she answered easily. "No, it's nothing like that. I just…I thought you might want to get married now," she finally blurted. "You haven't said a word about it, and I guess I just assumed you would. We have a house, we'll have a baby this fall, and I thought it was time. But it's really okay, and I understand if you're not ready for that."

"Syd, you should have said something," he scolded gently.

"I just didn't want to pressure you," she reasoned. "But Weiss convinced me this morning that I needed to tell you."

Vaughn stared at her in bewilderment before finally just dissolving into laughter.

"You think this is funny?" she accused, stung by his reaction.

"NO! No, Syd," he placated. "It's just that we were both so off here. I've had a ring for months. Literally. I got it a few weeks before Paris. I was planning to ask you while we were in France, but then you couldn't come with me. Then we found out you were pregnant, and I was afraid you would think I only asked because of the baby, so I decided to wait. I wanted to make sure you knew it was about you, and not just because I got you pregnant."

Sydney stared him, not even blinking. "I…you…what?" she stammered.

Vaughn chuckled again and squeezed her hand. "I thought when things settled down a little I could make it really special. And that is the ONLY reason I have not asked you to marry me. But I will, Syd. Whenever you want. The ring is in my dresser drawer, so say the word, and it's yours."

Sydney gaped at him in shock and sudden shame. "Oh God," she moaned. "I ruined your surprise."

"You didn't ruin anything," he protested vehemently. "If it's what you want, we can go home right now and get the ring. Hell, I'll even marry you today."

"You still want to marry me after the way I acted?" she asked doubtfully.

"Syd," he chastised. "We had a fight. Couples fight. I can't say I enjoyed it, but it's over now. So how about we forgive each other – and ourselves – and move on."

The server arrived with their food, momentarily silencing the conversation. Sydney immediately tore into her sandwich, no doubt famished since the last meal she kept down was an early dinner the night before. After swallowing a few bites to appease her growling stomach, she looked up and smiled sheepishly at Vaughn, who was enjoying his food at a much more leisurely pace as he watched in bemused affection. "Something funny?" she asked.

"Nah," he shook his head. "But you're cute when you're ravenous."

"Only then?" she taunted.

"All the time," he corrected. "So what do you think?" he asked uncertainly, returning to their previous topic of conversation. "Should we elope on our lunch break? I'm sure Kendall wouldn't mind us coming back a little late if we explained that we were busy saying our vows."

"He wouldn't mind firing us either," she pointed out.

"But we have Jack Bristow on our side," he reminded her. "And I'm convinced that Kendall is scared of your dad."

"Vaughn, my dad is tolerating you, but I doubt his acceptance would continue if you whisked me off to the Justice of the Peace on our lunch break. And I was kind of counting on you to be around to help me raise this baby, so I don't think you should give him any extra motivation to dispose of you," she advised, half-serious.

"I can't tell you how happy it makes me that your father is perpetually on the lookout for a reason to kill me," he said dryly.

"He won't," she promised. "He loves me too much to get rid of you."

"Well, that's a relief," he smiled. They shared a loving look for a moment, and Vaughn reached over the table again to grab her hand. "So maybe eloping is a bad idea," he began, "but do you…do you want to get engaged?" he asked uncertainly.

Sydney laughed at his nervous question, finding the whole situation so ridiculous. They always did everything so backwards; they already admitted to each other they wanted to get married, and now they were dancing around the actual proposal. "Are you asking me to marry you, Mr. Vaughn?" she teased, deciding to have a little fun with this.

Vaughn squirmed in his seat while he tried to concoct an acceptable answer. "Um, that depends."

"It depends? On what?"

"Are you saying yes?" he questioned seriously, all hints of jest gone from his voice. "I know this isn't exactly the most romantic way to go about it, but as long as you're saying yes, I don't care," he promised. "We can go home and get the ring and make it official."

"Let's wait, Vaughn," she suggested quietly. "Let's do this right. I want you to have your surprise. Now that I know it's coming…"

"It is, Syd," he interjected for emphasis.

"Okay then," she nodded. "I'll be waiting. Besides, I think we should wait until after the baby is born to actually get married. Pretty soon I'm going to need maternity clothes," she grimaced.

"That's a good thing," he reminded her. "Rings can be ambiguous. Everyone will KNOW you're mine when you're showing," he said proudly.

His beaming expression warmed her heart, chasing away all the lingering feelings of doubt or insecurity. The only way to interpret the look upon his face was sheer devotion, and his insistence on postponing the romantic proposal he planned for months just out of concern for her assured her that he was in this for the long haul, no matter who her mother was or what horrible words she threw at him in the midst of her confusion and tumultuous mood swings. "I love you, Vaughn," she said simply.

"I love you, too, Syd," he replied sweetly.

They finished eating their lunch, and then took advantage of the extra time to stroll up and down the street hand in hand. He swung her arm lightly, and they walked in silence, just enjoying the companionship. "Are you sure that morning sickness is gone?" he asked innocently as their lunch break came to an end.

"What?" she asked in confusion. "Why? Do I look sick?"

Vaughn eyed her critically. "You are a little pale," he answered seriously. "Yeah, you're definitely turning a little green," he nodded. "There's no way you can go back to the office. You should call your dad and tell him I'm taking you straight home."

Sydney caught the gist of his "concern" and smacked his arm. "We can't skip work," she laughed, despite her earnest attempt to look stern.

"Why not?" he asked with a pout. "We had a fight, Syd. It's only fair that we take the proper amount of time to fully reconcile before we try to go back to work."

"Don't worry," she grinned seductively. "We'll make up tonight."


	5. Chapter 5

"Why did my dad just wish me a good weekend?" Sydney asked in confusion, still trying to wrap her head around her father's strange behaviour. Not only did he decide at the last minute that he didn't need their debriefs until Wednesday instead of Monday, but he smiled and suggested that she and Vaughn head home before the rush hour traffic hit. Her father may have grown a little softer since he found out he was going to be a grandpa, but Jack Bristow never sent anyone home early, much less with a warm goodbye.

Vaughn rolled his eyes at her sceptical expression as he wrapped his arm lightly around her waist, guiding her towards the elevator that would take them to his car. "Don't be so paranoid," he said lightly. "It's Friday evening…lots of people wish their co-workers a good weekend, and he's your dad."

"Exactly!" she laughed. "My dad isn't exactly the most courteous, if you haven't noticed."

"I'm telling you, Syd. Your dad's lightening up. I don't think he's even given me the patented Death Glare all week. That has to be some kind of record," he joked. They reached the car and he opened her door for her. He held her arm as she climbed in, noticing that she wasn't quite as agile as before. It must drive her crazy, but she hadn't said anything, and he wisely offered his support without making it into an issue.

"What should we do for dinner tonight?" Sydney asked as Vaughn pulled out of the parking garage. "I haven't been to the grocery all week. I don't think we have any food left, so if you want to cook tonight, we better stop before we go home," she advised him.

Vaughn smirked a little, trying his best to hide the smile that threatened to give away his secret. He pretended to be apathetic, shrugging his shoulders in his usual fashion. She hated that he never helped her decide what they should do for dinner, and just as he expected, she shot him a glare, coupled with an exaggerated sigh. "Why don't we go out?" he asked before she was able to reprimand him. "It's been a busy week. I don't really feel like cooking."

Sydney's face brightened as she enthusiastically agreed. "That sounds great. Are you hungry now?"

Vaughn switched lanes and wondered if she noticed yet that he was heading in the opposite direction from their house. "I could eat," he answered noncommittally.

"Vaughn, you're going the wrong way…" she realised.

"No, I'm not," he countered simply.

"Then where are we going?"

"Out to dinner."

Sydney narrowed her eyes and stared at him again, and this time, he nearly cracked under the pressure. Somehow, he managed to stay gazing straight ahead at the road before him, unflinching under her scrutiny. "Okay…are you going to tell me where we're eating?" she tried again.

"It's up to you. If you're starving now, we can stop and eat, or we can find something to hold you over until we get to San Diego," he said casually.

Sydney blinked in confusion once more. Suddenly, her father's strange attitude and Vaughn's feigned innocence made perfect sense. She glanced to the back of the car and saw both of their suitcases already sitting on the bench seat. A wide smile broke over her face as she laughed in delight. "I can't believe you!" she exclaimed. "How did I not notice the suitcases?"

Vaughn grinned in triumph. "I'm a spy too, you know," he teased.

"I can't believe I didn't figure it out," she shook her head. "Why San Diego? What are we doing there?" she inquired curiously.

"Well, that's where my mom lives, so it'll be easier for you to go shopping with her tomorrow if we just stay over. And while we're there, we might as well take advantage of having the whole weekend off," he said casually.

"I'm going shopping with your mom tomorrow?" she asked incredulously, the excitement practically dripping from her enthusiastic words.

Vaughn finally cracked and nodded emphatically. "Yeah," he smiled. "She's expecting us sometime tonight, so we can still eat wherever you want."

Sydney was too excited to waste time, so they quickly found a restaurant and finished their meals. As they walked back out to the car, Vaughn noticed that she had grown a little quieter, more pensive. "Hey," he whispered, swinging her arm lightly before they reached his car. "You okay?"

Sydney nodded and gave him a tight smile, and then opened her door before he could question her further. Knowing not to push her, Vaughn took his seat and headed back towards the freeway. She fiddled nervously with the radio, flipping back and forth between different stations every time the song changed. By the seventh station, Vaughn was ready to grab her hand and forcefully remove it from the radio tuning knob. "Syd, why don't you find a CD?" he suggested.

"Because your CDs are horrible," she answered lightly.

"You'll have to forgive me for not taking musical advice from a woman that owns a startling collection of country albums," he pointed out.

With a huff, Sydney pulled out his CD carrier and flipped through it, finally locating one she found acceptable. She stuck it in the stereo and leaned back against the seat, sighing heavily.

"Okay, Syd," he said seriously. "What's going on?"

"I'm not ready to meet her," she breathed, suddenly gripping the leather armrests with so much force her knuckles turned white. "What am I going to say? What am I going to tell her?"

"About what?" he questioned gently, prying her fingers loose from the seat and weaving them with his own to calm her unravelling nerves. He knew just how to massage the back of her hand with his thumb, and the small circles he slowly traced relaxed her ever so slightly. Still, her face appeared ashen with worry. "Syd, I think she'll figure out the baby on her own," he teased, trying to keep his tone light. Sydney certainly wasn't huge, but it was obvious she was pregnant, and she still felt a little sensitive about the burgeoning bulge despite his assurances that she looked incredible. "She's been waiting for this for a long time, Syd. I promise she'll be thrilled," he soothed.

"I'm not talking about the baby," she amended quietly.

"Then what?" he asked in devoted consternation, stealing a few brief glances at her terrified face before turning back to the road.

"About my mom, Vaughn. I…I don't know what to say, but I can't lie to her. Vaughn, I'm not ready for this!" she insisted, her voice rising slightly with a hysteric edge. "I can't do this. I can't stand in her house and deceive her, but I can't tell her either. She'll hate me!" Tears of sheer terror ran down her cheeks, breaking Vaughn's heart with their sincerity. She truly believed his mother could hate her, and she so obviously needed her future mother-in-law's support. As much as it pained him to talk about Irina Derevko, he sensed that this bothered her far more. "Vaughn, don't make me do this," she pleaded with him.

"Shh," he quieted her. "Slow down, Syd," he instructed calmly. "You're getting worked up over nothing."

"Nothing?" she gaped. "Vaughn, she's your mother! What are you going to do if she hates me?" she asked incredulously, a hint of insecurity creeping back into her words.

"First of all, I love you, and I don't need her approval for that," he said earnestly, his face deadly serious. He would hate hurting his mother, but if she couldn't accept that he loved this woman, their relationship would be over anyway. It scared him at times that he would abandon his own mother for Sydney's sake, but he trusted that it would never come to that. "And second," he continued, "she doesn't hate you. She knows about your mom," he admitted, "and she's still so excited to meet you. You have nothing to worry about."

"She knows? You told her?" Sydney cried in shock. "Were you ever going to tell me this?"

"It never came up, Syd," he defended quietly. He tightened his hold on her hand before proceeding with his explanation. "I told her I knew who killed Dad as soon as we found out, Syd," he said softly. "We never knew anything, never had any closure, so I told her everything I was authorised to tell. And then I told her that his murderer was the mother of one of my colleagues. She was shocked, Sydney, but when I told her what an amazing person you were and how guilty you felt, she was only worried about you. We've had a long time to mourn my dad, but this is still new for you, Syd."

Sydney shook with sobs, but she managed to nod in agreement. He almost wanted to stop the story there; she was still suffering so much over her mother's betrayal, and even more so now that she was about to become a mother herself. But he couldn't – and wouldn't – allow her to spend the weekend believing she was somehow less worthy of his mother's concern and affection because of something as trivial as genetics. "She doesn't want you to feel responsible any more than I do. Even before she knew that I loved you she felt for you."

"But it's different now, Vaughn," she protested weakly. "I was just a colleague then, and now I'm part of your family."

"You weren't Iever/I just a colleague," he refuted vehemently.

"I was to her," Sydney choked through her hiccups. "What did she say when you told her we were dating?"

Vaughn grinned crookedly at the memory and raised her hand to kiss each of her knuckles before speaking again. "I told her I was in love before we even started dating," he admitted sheepishly, causing Sydney to smile just a little. "She was so mad that I was dating Alice again," he chuckled, shaking his head.

"She wasn't the only one," Sydney said softly.

"Well, she made sure to tell me what an ass I was," he assured her wryly. "Anyway, when I told her I was in love, she knew it was you. She suspected all along. I could never hide the way I felt about you, and she said she saw it in my face when I talked about you."

"Really?" Sydney asked hopefully.

"Really," he confirmed. "It never even crossed her mind to be upset, Sydney. When I told her I wanted to bring you down to meet her, she was so excited. She's been making plans all week. I might not see either one of you all weekend," he joked. Then, sobering a little, he added, "She knows you're it for me, Syd. And she's thrilled. You have absolutely nothing to be afraid of, I promise."

"You're amazing," she praised in wonder, offering him a watery smile. "I can't believe you did all this for me," she shook her head.

"Well, believe it," he grinned, squeezing her hand again. "I'll do anything for you."

"Anything?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Syd," he chastised. "Not in my mother's house."

Sydney rolled her eyes and smacked his arm. They shared a warm smile, and Vaughn leaned over to place a quick peck on her cheek. She sighed dreamily and shifted to rest against him. "Are you sure your mom isn't going to be mad we didn't tell her earlier?" she wondered quietly. "Isn't this going to be a bit of a shock?"

"Syd, my mom would never forgive me if I told her over the phone. She's going to be too excited naming all of our children to care how far along you are," he said wryly. "Just be warned, there's going to be a lot of hugging and crying," he advised.

"I can't wait," she said genuinely. "But exactly how many children is she naming?" she asked with a teasing glint in her eyes.

"Oh, at least enough for a hockey team," he said flippantly, matching her jocular tone.

"Okay," she nodded, "but how many of those children are YOU going to be giving birth to?"

Vaughn laughed aloud as he pulled off the interstate. Sydney tightened her grip on his hand as she realised just how close she was to meeting the woman she imagined so many times. "Seriously, Syd, I don't care how many kids we have," he said, hoping to draw her thoughts away from her nervousness. "I'm sure we would love all of our children, but I can also be happy just the three of us. Hell, one baby is icing on the cake," he chuckled. His face softened as his eyes grew tender with love. "You have no idea how happy you make me, Sydney. Every day I'm so amazed that you chose me. Waking up next to you is all I ever need, kids or no kids."

"Vaughn," she whispered tearfully, more eloquent words escaping her vocabulary. She laughed in self-deprecation and wiped at the stray drops on her cheeks. "God, I'm always crying!" she exclaimed.

"I hope those are happy tears this time," he cracked with a smile.

"Of course," she assured him. "And Vaughn," she murmured, "I _do _know how happy you are, because I'm just as amazed that you picked me. Sometimes I wonder if you'll wake up one day and realise you could have done so much better," she confessed.

"That will NEVER happen, Syd," he countered gravely. "Ever. You're amazing, and there will never be a day that I don't want to be with you, okay? Don't ever worry about that."

"I won't," she promised with a nod. "Besides," she added lightly. "I wouldn't let you go anyway."

"Okay, stay right here for just a minute," Vaughn instructed, grabbing Sydney's shoulders to stop her. They had finally reached his mother's house and currently stood on the long brick sidewalk leading to her front door. Sydney's eyes widened at the command, and Vaughn smoothed down her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I just want to introduce you before we surprise her."

"Okay," Sydney agreed, her eyes twinkling with nervous anticipation. Vaughn started to walk away, but she grabbed his arm tightly and yanked him back.

"Ow!" he cried in alarm. "Jesus, Syd! You're going to rip my arm off!"

"Sorry," she said sheepishly, releasing her death grip and running her fingers lightly over the sore area. "I'm scared," she admitted.

"Hey," he whispered, pulling her into a gentle hug. "I told you, there is nothing to worry about, I promise. Everything is going to be fine," he assured her. "But if you're really not sure, I'll tell her first. You can wait right out here."

"No," she shook her head. "I trust you."

"Good," he kissed her quickly, and then brushed away the stray locks of hair falling across her forehead to kiss her again. His grin was infectious now, and Sydney loved that this meant so much to him. "I love you," he added seriously. "I'll wave you in, alright?"

"Got it," she confirmed resolutely. "And I love you too."

He practically sprinted the rest of the way, leaving Sydney alone on the walkway. She wrung her hands together in a vain attempt to calm the fluttering nerves in her stomach, currently more prominent than the small person growing inside her. Despite Vaughn's assurance that he didn't need his mother's approval, Sydney craved Celia's acceptance. Without her own mother to guide her through this wonderful but frightening time, she felt woefully alone, and painfully inept. She knew nothing about children, and even less about raising them. The little she knew about pregnancy came from the various books people bought her, and somehow the words on the pages didn't offer her much comfort – certainly not the type she needed. Vaughn was amazing and patient with her, always considering her first and himself second, but even his aide could only go so far. He was new to parenting as well, and he couldn't offer any perspective or wise advice.

She heard the front door opening and grabbed her stomach, trying to remember why she was doing this. He spoke loudly as he greeted his mother, and Sydney smiled in spite of her nerves at the warm reception he received. "Maman, I want to introduce you to someone," he said as soon as they exchanged pleasantries.

"I thought so," she laughed. "Are you making the poor girl stand outside?"

"Well…" he began hesitantly.

"He wanted to prepare you," Sydney swept in to save him. He smiled in admiration and touched the small of her back in silent support. "Hi," she said quietly. "I'm…"

Vaughn recovered from his falter and stepped forward, still keeping his hand firmly in place. "Maman, this is Sydney Bristow," he introduced.

Tears began to stream down Celia's cheeks as she looked Sydney up and down. Sydney glanced over to Vaughn nervously, but he just smiled in reassurance and nodded his head. "I'm so sorry we didn't come earlier," she apologised hurriedly. "Our schedules have been so hectic, but we wanted to tell you--"

Celia cut Sydney's words off by embracing her tightly, wrapping her arms around her in a warm and loving hug. Sydney felt hot tears dripping from her cheeks as she returned the hug, finally assured that everything would be just fine. "Mom, I think Sydney needs to breathe," he interjected quietly.

Celia immediately let go, chuckling a little as she straightened her blouse. "I'm sorry, dear," she apologised. "I was beginning to think I'd never be a grandmother. This is such a wonderful surprise…oh Michel, how could you keep this exquisite girl away from me?" she scolded mildly, her smile belying any true anger towards her son. Sydney flushed bright red at the compliment, bowing her head in embarrassment.

Vaughn stepped to her rescue, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her against him. "I was never good at sharing," he said lightly, planting a kiss on Sydney's forehead.

"Mrs. Vaughn, thank you so much for having us," Sydney said appreciatively. "I've been looking forward to meeting you for a long time."

"Please, it's Celia, and you're welcome, dear. It's a pleasure to have you. I've been waiting for my son to introduce me to the woman he can't stop talking about," Celia gushed.

Now it was Vaughn's turn to blush as Sydney grinned at him cheekily. "We'll talk later," he whispered in her ear.

They finished exchanging pleasantries, and Celia led them to the kitchen for tea. Sydney sat stiffly in her chair, still a little unnerved by the significance of the night. She wondered now if Vaughn felt this nervous all the time around her father, knowing that he was Sydney's only real family and the one person he must never fail to impress. At least Celia wouldn't make death threats if Sydney disappointed her. Realising just how much courage it took to even dare to date her, much less marry and have a child with her, she reached over and grasped Vaughn's head. He glanced over in worry, concerned that she was still insecure. "You okay?" he mouthed quietly.

"Perfect," she smiled.

"Sydney, you must be an amazing woman to make my son so happy," she said genuinely. She turned to Vaughn with a look that Sydney guessed he'd received more than a handful of times as a teenager. "He's certainly never behaved this way around any other girlfriends, especially that--"

"Mom!" Vaughn exclaimed, cutting her off. He looked over to Sydney to apologise, but she just laughed and kissed his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Michael, but you know that I never liked that Alice," she said with brutal honesty.

"That makes two of us," Sydney agreed.

"Yeah?" he teased.

"Oh please, Vaughn," she chuckled. "I'm sure you remember that ridiculous fight before Nice."

"The Alice reference did come out of nowhere," he agreed.

"I wasn't really mad at you, you know."

"Yeah, I guessed that part," he smiled.

Celia finished the tea and poured them each a mug before sitting down across from Sydney and Vaughn. "So Sydney, tell me about how you and Michael began dating," she prompted.

"It was so gradual," Sydney explained. "When we met, I was wreck – physically, emotionally, everything. Michael had absolutely no reason to do everything he did to make it easier on me, but you raised an amazing man, Mrs. Vaughn." She squeezed Vaughn's hand before continuing. "He was always there for me. I wasn't close to my father then, and I couldn't talk to my friends about what I did. He was the one person that really knew me."

"That must have been hard," Celia noted quietly.

"It was," Sydney nodded, "but he saw me through all of it. I knew that I cared about him, but I didn't realise how much until I was in trouble." Vaughn looked up curiously, not sure he knew what she was talking about. Sydney smiled at him in gentle reassurance before turning back to his mom. "I tried to hide it from him, but he knew. And he sought me out. He looked all over Los Angeles for me…all the places he knew I loved, and he found me at the train station. Right there, he offered to help me, even though it could have cost him his job." She didn't add the part about almost losing his life for Celia's sake, and for the sake of her own sanity at this moment.

"I didn't know that," Vaughn admitted, at little amazed by her admission. He fell a little faster, and pinned his own feelings on that night at the pier. Of course, Weiss was already making hints about his wandering attention, but he didn't truly admit to himself that he felt incredibly attracted to Sydney Bristow until he saw just how amazing she really was, balancing her job and school and her friends all at the same time. "Well, at least it was gradual on one account," he chuckled. Sydney raised an eyebrow in curiosity, and he just shook his head. "God, Syd, how could you not see that I was crazy about you? I think you'll recall me mentioning a rather huge fight with Alice not long after I met you."

"That was about me?" she gaped, a hint of humour on her face despite her attempts to hide her delight.

"Don't look so innocent," he teased, kissing her cheek. "I know you're secretly happy about that."

They all laughed aloud at this, and Sydney and Vaughn continued to share the condensed version of their story, omitting parts where necessary. Sydney grew more and more comfortable as the conversation progressed, and she found herself musing silently over how perfect this all seemed. Vaughn's mother was everything she imagined, and infinitely more giving and kind. She gathered from their intimate conversation that he and his mom shared a special relationship, and her heart beat a little faster as she realised she would soon be a part of this family. Suddenly it didn't seem so frightening; she could picture herself chatting over lunch or coffee, bouncing the baby on her knee while Celia gushed over how much he or she was growing.

Celia launched into full interrogation mode after a while, drilling Sydney and Vaughn with questions about the pregnancy. Sydney naturally moved her hand to her stomach as she answered appropriately, allowing Vaughn to field some of the questions as her eyelids began to droop. "Are you tired, Syd?" Vaughn asked in concern.

"Just a little," she admitted. "But I'm fine."

"Nonsense," Celia shook her head. "I'm sure you've both had a long day. Michael, do you want to show Sydney to your room?"

Vaughn nodded and pulled Sydney up, leading her by the hand up the staircase to the room at the very end of the hall. She sat down on the plush bed and marvelled in its softness, realising for the first time just how drained she felt. Vaughn instructed her to stay put while he grabbed the bags from the car, and she didn't find it too hard to comply with his command.

"You want a bath or a shower?" he asked upon his return.

"Shower," she yawned, following him to the bathroom.

"I'll be downstairs with my mom," he said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the kitchen. "Just come down when you're finished and we can go to bed."

Sydney nodded and playfully pushed him out of the room. He lingered outside the door for just a moment, waiting to hear the shower start. Something about having her here where he spent most of his life felt so incredibly right, and he wanted to savour the moment. He committed the moment to memory and returned to the kitchen to sit down with his mom.

"She's wonderful, Michael," Celia sighed happily. "You chose well." She took a long sip of her tea and looked at her son over the rim of her mug.

"I know," Vaughn nodded seriously.

"You know," she began lowly, her eyes twinkling, "I never thought anyone could love someone as much as I loved your father, but I always wanted you to find someone that made you half as happy. But now I think I might have been wrong," she grinned knowingly.

Vaughn nodded in agreement. "That's actually part of the reason I wanted to come down this weekend," he admitted. He took a deep breath and prepared himself to say everything he planned and rehearsed the entire week. "I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate everything you did for me," he blurted out.

"Michael!" Celia exclaimed in surprise, shocked by his sweet but unexpected declaration.

"It's just…being with Sydney makes me realise how hard it must have been for you. I used to send her into the lion's den every day, and it nearly killed me. If I lost her…" he paused, choking past the emotion clouding his thoughts. His mom smiled sympathetically, allowing her son a moment to compose himself. "Sorry," he apologised sheepishly. "At least I can be with her now; you didn't have that. It would drive me insane, letting her go out there without knowing where she was or if she was okay."

A tear dropped from Celia's eyes as she nodded. "It was awful," she agreed. "But he loved it, and I loved him," she added meaningfully. "Will Sydney go back after the baby?"

Vaughn looked down into his mug, afraid to admit what he already knew. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to answer with painful honesty. "Yes," he nodded. They never talked about it, but he knew. If he begged, if he pleaded with her to consider him and the baby, she might relent and resign herself to desk duty. But he knew what would happen. She would try to be happy for his sake, but she would begin to resent him. She would be bored and dissatisfied, and no matter what he did, he wouldn't be able to help. She needed closure; he never pretended or imagined that loving him would immediately heal the gaping wounds left over from a lifetime of betrayal and loss. Just as she couldn't make him forget the trauma of losing a father, he couldn't offer the peace she so desperately needed after Danny's death. "I hate it," he admitted. "But I guess it's like you and Dad. There are things she – WE – need to do…things I can't talk about. But she can't really be happy until we make things right." He shook his head sadly and massaged his temples.

"Do you tell her?" Celia asked softly.

"I try," he nodded. "I've come so close to losing her so many times, Mom. I swear, she's going to kill me," he tried to joke. He sobered as he remembered countless brushes with death – near torture at the slimy hands of Arvin Sloane, compromised missions, that jump from the plane – and the even more numerous scars and bruises. The injuries were the one part of physical intimacy with Sydney that made him cringe. He tried to lose himself in her, forget about everything but her hands on his skin and her body in his arms, but afterwards, he always noticed. He trailed his fingers over the faint pink lines that stood out as beautiful badges of both her courage and her imperfections, the little signs of her human vulnerabilities that always intrigued and haunted him. She would smile faintly in reassurance, but her eyes betrayed the deeply hidden hurt, the part that didn't ever really heal, and he kissed the scars, promising never to be the source of any such pain. "Sometimes I'm so amazed," he mused aloud, his voice scratchy as his mind lingered in the memories. "She's been through much and never lost herself."

"Where do you think she gets that?" Celia asked pointedly.

Vaughn looked back at her in confusion. "I don't…"

"From you," she answered simply. "The way she talks about you…your father would be so proud."

"I'm worn out!" Sydney exclaimed with a laugh. She dropped the numerous shopping bags weighing her down and plopped heavily into a chair by the Starbucks. Celia added several more bags to the heap and chuckled at Sydney's exhausted face.

"Shopping wears you out?" Celia teased. "I would think international flights several times a week would be more gruelling than a morning at the mall with an old woman."

"I've cut back on the flights," Sydney smiled softly. "And if I didn't, I'm sure your son would make me," she rolled her eyes. She and Celia spent the better part of their morning hitting all the stores, mostly buying the maternity clothes Sydney would need now on a regular basis, but also a few adorable purchases for the baby. Sydney found herself laughing and smiling more than she ever expected, and they swapped sweet and funny stories about Vaughn – several of which Sydney filed away for opportune moments.

"He loves you," Celia said simply. "Vaughn men are protective. His father was the same way. He barely let me walk from one side of the room to the other when I was pregnant with Michael."

Sydney nodded and forced a chuckle, but her smile faltered at the mention of William Vaughn. Though she felt perfectly accepted already (and thanked Vaughn enthusiastically the night before, they were all dancing around the issue, trying not to discuss it. While she believed the Celia did not confuse the sins of the mother with those of the child, a part of her felt like a fraud trying to pretend the elephant in the room didn't really intrude.

"Mrs. Vaughn," Sydney began gravely.

"What's wrong, dear?"

"I just…I know Michael told you about my mother, but I just need to apologise--"

"No, you don't," Celia cut her off gently.

Tears stung Sydney's eyes as she shook her head. "I do. I know it must be hard for you, especially since the baby--"

"Will be the child of two wonderful, caring people," Celia finished for her. "Sydney, how old were you when your mother left?"

"Six," Sydney answered quietly, her eyes fixed on the table.

"And who raised you after that?"

"Nannies," she shrugged. "My father and I never really talked again after she left. He hired nannies to take care of me."

"Then what could you possibly have to be sorry for?" Sydney prodded, reaching across the table to still Sydney's trembling hand. "You were a child, Sweetheart. You played no role in your mother's decisions, and you have suffered just as much as Michael and I have, if not more. I hate your mother for what she did to us, but I also hate her for what she did to you."

"Celia…"

Celia smiled softly and squeezed the younger woman's hand. "You are beautiful, Sydney, and you make my son so happy."

"He makes me happy, too," Sydney added tearfully.

They sat in silence for a few minutes as Sydney fought to compose herself once more. Celia patted her kindly on the back and ordered two coffees – decaf for Sydney – to rejuvenate them both for another round of stores. Sydney gratefully sipped the steaming liquid and pretended it was really working for her, gazing at Vaughn's mother in wonder. Celia didn't notice her scrutiny as she looked around the mall to scope out a plan of attack, but the moment allowed Sydney to really process everything that happened in less than twenty-four hours.

She struck gold when she met Vaughn, and she knew it almost immediately. The moment they took him away and replaced him with that piece of filth that somehow weaselled his way up the ranks, she knew she couldn't manage the fight without him. She didn't realise just how much she would come to need him in every area of her life, but every day he proved his commitment and devotion. It didn't really surprise her that his mother displayed so many of the same admirable qualities. But nothing could have prepared her for the openness and love she immediately felt radiating from her presence. In less than a day she adopted Sydney as her own, taking her under her wing and assuming the role her own mother should have played. Knowing what she did about Irina Derevko, Sydney found it hard to miss Laura Bristow when she had Celia Vaughn.


	6. Chapter 6

"Debrief in ten minutes, Bristow," Kendall reminded Sydney as he hurried past her desk, on his way to collect the other agents hiding somewhere around the rotunda. Sydney sighed aloud and began to gather the massive mound of research she compiled in preparation for their upcoming op. to Trieste, Italy. She and Vaughn had avoided talking about the mission all week, but according to Sydney's calendar, she was almost exactly at the five month mark in her pregnancy. In the last months her role in operations had changed to accomodate her increasing limitations, but she promised Vaughn she would remove herself completely from active duty at five months. She knew it was time to step down, and honestly, she was a little relieved, but the sense of finality still bothered her just a little. It would be a long time before she was ready to go back in the field, and she hated the idea of just leaving Sloane and Derevko in someone else's hands. It had to be done, but she didn't have to feel good about it.

Vaughn seemed nervous and flighty all week, so Sydney suspected that he was a little worried about reminding her of her commitment. It took more than a few heated arguments to reach the compromise, and she would willingly admit she had been rather unreasonable and unfair. Still, he didn't need to be scared to tell her, because she was just uncomfortable enough to volunteer that information as soon as she finished with this mission. Shoving the last of her papers into the manilla folder, she left her workstation to look for Vaughn so they could head to the debrief together.

Her last mission was a simple recon op, and the debrief took less than a hour. As soon as they finished up, Kendall sent them home to get ready. Vaughn lingered for a few minutes in the conference room, shooting several brief glances towards her father. Sydney lowered her eyes in concern, a little unnerved by her boyfriend's strange behaviour this week. "Vaughn," she said softly, stepping up next to him and taking hold of his arm.

"I'll see you both on the plane," her father acknowledged before leaving them alone.

"Vaughn," Sydney said again. "I know this is my last mission. I'm fine with it," she assured him.

Vaughn smiled tightly, obviously trying (and failing) to seem at ease. "Thank you, Syd," he said appreciatively. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't relieved," he admitted.

"Me too," she laughed. "Flying across the globe while five months pregnant is not all that comfortable."

"I guess not. You ready?"

She nodded, and he led her out to the car.

"God dammit," Vaughn cursed hours later. "What the hell is wrong with the plane?"

"Vaughn," Sydney reprimanded gently. "It's not a big deal. They'll get us there in time."

Vaughn glanced irritably at his watch and shook his head in frustration, cursing lowly under his breath. Weiss looked at Sydney sympathetically and left the two alone in the room while he went to check with the pilot on the status of their flight. They were at an airfield in England, and mechanical difficulties currently grounded their plane, but the pilot promised to take care of the situation and get them to Trieste in plenty of time. She was only moderately aggravated with the delay, but Vaughn seemed ready to snap.

"Vaughn, it's okay," she tried again.

"It's _not_ okay," he bit too harshly, taking out his frustration on her. "We were supposed to leave an hour ago."

"Yeah, but we don't have to be there until tonight. We have plenty of time," she reminded him.

"That's not the point," he shot back.

"And yelling at me isn't going to fix the problem with the plane," she said, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

Vaughn sighed in frustration and finally smiled at Sydney. "I'm sorry," he apologised. "I'm being an ass."

Sydney laughed shortly and walked to his his side, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head on his shoulder. He breathed out slowly to relax, and she felt the tension flood from his body. "Yeah, you are," she teased, "but I still love you."

"Mmm, love you too," he answered. "That's why I'm so upset. I...uh...I actually had plans for us. I was going to show you around the city. It's really beautiful, and I thought it would be nice."

"Oh Vaughn," she gasped. "That's so sweet, thank you."

"Yeah, well, we won't have time now, so there's no reason to thank me," he sighed.

"What about after?" she suggested. "It's a simple mission, Vaughn. It won't take us long. I know we won't have that much time, but it would still be nice."

Vaughn pulled back to study her face. "Yeah?" he asked doubtfully.

"Of course. It'll be fun. Just relax for now, okay?"

"Okay," he smiled happily.

They found a seat and curled up next to each other, and Vaughn dozed off for the next hour until the plane arrived. The flight to Trieste was relatively smooth, and they both slept a little. They only had an hour to prepare before they were scheduled to meet their contact, but since they were only picking up information and questioning a man who defected from Sloane and Derevko's alliance, there wasn't much to go over. Weiss monitored the meeting from the roof of a nearby building, and after twenty minutes or so, they were ready to leave with a large folder of valuable intel on Sloane's operations and objectives.

While the rest of the team returned to the van to wade through the sea of papers and reports, Sydney quickly opened her suitcase, hoping to find something halfway appropriate, and smiled as she realised Vaughn had packed one of her favourite new dresses. She still felt a little self-conscious about wearing maternity clothes, but Celia picked out the dress for her, and Vaughn swore she looked absolutely gorgeous every time she wore it. She threw on the dress and quickly fixed her hair, adding an extra touch of eyeliner and a light mist of perfume.

"You look amazing," Vaughn praised as he breezed into the room.

Sydney scanned his body and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you. You look great. I love this suit," she noted, fingering the collar of his deep blue oxford shirt.

"Yeah, I know," he grinned. "Why do you think I picked this one?"

"Smart man. Are you ready?"

"Of course." He grabbed her hand and led her to the car he rented. Their plane was scheduled to leave again in two hours, so he furrowed his brow in concentration as they sped down the road towards some unknown location.

"Where are we going?" Sydney asked curiously.

He shot her a brief glance and smiled enigmatically. "You'll see when we get there."

"Vaaaauuuuuggghhnnnn," she whined.

"Good try, but no," he laughed.

She pouted and tried to look angry, but his insistence on surprising her was actually adorable, and she loved that he went to so much effort to make an otherwise boring mission a romantic date that she would remember while she sat at home on desk duty for the next eight or nine months. He knew she had mixed feelings about temporarily suspending her field rating, and this sweet evening reminded her of all the reasons she wanted to stay at home and prepare for the baby. Yes, she had been doing her job for a long time, and she wasn't entirely sure what she would do with herself while her colleagues went out on missions and she read the reports, but since he promised not to go on missions without her he was in the same boat, and she was sure he would do everything he could to make it more bearable.

Vaughn drove the car away from the city, and Sydney just relaxed so she could take in the sights. Italy had always been one of her favourite countries, but it was so rare that she actually had the time to enjoy the sights in all the cities she visited. There would probably only be time for dinner and a quick drive around the little port village, but even that was more than missions usually afforded them. And for now, travelling was out of the picture. When the baby was old enough, she would return to the field and complete her operations, but she and Vaughn really wouldn't have many good opportunities to go away just the two of them for a relaxing weekend or a spontaneous vacation like they always talked about.

Right as Vaughn took a sharp turn along the curvy road, a loud pop sounded from beneath the car, startling them both. The whole car started to shake and bounce awkwardly down the already bumpy road, and Sydney winced at the harsh jarring. Vaughn cursed loudly and jerked the wheel to the right to pull off the road and stop the car. As soon as they were safely parked, he looked over to Sydney in concern. "Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured him. "What happened?"

"I think we just lost a tire," he sighed. "Stay right here and I'll go check."

Sydney watched him walk around the car to ascertain the problem, and his face twisted in anger and obvious frustration as he kicked the now flat tire. He dropped his head into his hands and tried not to scream, but she could tell this really upset him. Ignoring his instructions, she stepped out of the car to comfort him. "It's okay, Honey," she promised.

"No, it's not," he argued. "Nothing is going right. We'll never get this fixed in time to do anything tonight. I just wanted to make it special."

"I know," she murmured, hugging him tightly. "And I really appreciate that, Vaughn. Yes, it's disappointing, but you went to a lot of effort and I love you for it. We can go out when we get home. Let's just call Weiss and have someone pick us up so we can get back to the airfield."

Vaughn stepped back and looked again at the car as though he expected it to miraculously repair itself. When it didn't, he shook his head sadly. "I'm so sorry, Syd," he apologised again. "I know you're not thrilled about this being your last mission and I really wanted to take you out tonight. I know we can go out at home, but I thought it would be so nice to see the city together, and now the whole night is all fucked up."

"Vaughn," she scolded mildly. "Don't apologise. This isn't your fault. Things happen. It's really okay, and I'm not upset."

Vaughn cursed again and kicked the tire, so Sydney took a step back and bit her lip. She really wasn't mad at him at all, and just the fact that he tried so hard to give her a special night meant everything to her, but it was obvious her assurances weren't going to help the situation at all. Even if she didn't mind the spoiled plans, he did. He went to a lot of trouble to arrange everything, and a few bouts of bad luck ruined it. "Dammit," he swore, turning and running his hands through his hair as he looked out over the sea. She watched him carefully, trying to figure out how to help.

"Michael," she said softly, stepping behind him to loop her arms around his waist. He remained tense, unmoved by her gentle tone. "I'm so sorry this didn't work out," she murmured sincerely.

Vaughn turned around in her arms to gape at her incredulously. "Why are you apologising? This was supposed to be _your_ night."

She smiled and cupped his cheek. "It's your night, too," she reminded him.

He nodded and rested his head on her shoulder, trying to calm his haggard breathing. She stroked his back lovingly, hoping to calm and soothe him. "I've been planning this for so long," he murmured, his breath tickling her neck.

"Really?" she asked in surprise. "But we didn't even know we would be here until this week."

"I'm the one that decided on Trieste," he admitted. "I set up the meeting here because I wanted to bring you. I was here once a few years ago, and I knew you would love it, so I convinced your dad to help me set it up." He stepped out of her embrace and looked at her seriously. "I had it all planned, Syd. I bought food from a little restaurant and had Weiss bring it back for me, and I was going to take to you to this great spot for a picnic. Then there's this museum - the Revoltella - and you can go up on the roof. It has the most amazing view of the whole city, and I knew it would be perfect."

"I don't understand," she shook her head in confusion. "Perfect for what?"

"Syd," he began slowly, reaching his hand into his pocket. Suddenly everything slid into place and she realised what was happening. His frenzied, anxious behaviour the whole week, the guarded looks he shared with her father, the hushed phone calls to his mother...she was honestly amazed she hadn't figured it out before. Tears began to stream down her cheeks without warning, morphing into full sobs when he pulled out a small velvet box and produced the most gorgeous ring she'd ever seen. The platinum band bore a single diamond in the perfect princess cut, so pristinely clear she knew it cost him a near fortune. Tiny emeralds sparkled all along the band, accenting the already elegant design. "Sydney," he said again, his face now lit with nervous excitement.

"Vaughn...oh my God," she breathed, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I wanted it to be romantic. After we talked about getting married I knew it should be something really special so you would know how much I love you and want to be with you. But I brought you here to do this, and I don't want to go home without you wearing this ring. I never planned on doing this on the side of the road, but what the hell, right?" he grinned crookedly.

Sydney couldn't bring herself to speak, so she just nodded as the tears continued to fall.

"Syd, I don't remember when exactly you made me fall in love with you the first time...I think it started the day you walked into my office, and it grew a little more every time I saw you. I realised it that night on the pier, but I remember the exact moment I realised I needed to be with you for the rest of my life. It was right after I woke up after the accident - and just for future reference, I never want to wake up to Jack Bristow's face ever again," he joked lightly. "But he told me about the baby, and I convinced the doctor to let me go to your room. You were asleep when I got there, so I sat down and touched your cheek. As soon as I did, you smiled and moved towards me. And that was it, Syd," he said simply. "It probably sounds so insignificant, especially considering everything we've been through, but...I don't know," he shook his head. "It just amazed me that you were with me, that we were going to have a baby. And I felt like the luckiest man alive when you just moved towards me in your sleep."

"Because I knew you were there," she said tearfully. "I always want to be with you."

He nodded seriously and grabbed her hand. He slowly knelt to the ground, not caring that his expensive suit was resting in the dirt on the side of the road. "When we went to visit my mom, I told her about how many times I came close to losing you. There have been way too many, Syd, but the thing is, they always just remind me that I don't want to waste a day. I know things are crazy, and I know it's going to be hard to take care of a baby and balance work at the same time, and I'm sure we're going to scream and yell at each other sometimes. But I promise you, Sydney, I will get you out of this life."

"But you have to be there," she added adamantly. "You have to promise me we'll get out of it together."

"I promise, Syd," he agreed. "If you'll marry me, I _will _make sure that we get that normal life. Together." He laughed softly and looked down at the ground. "God, I keep babbling, and I haven't even asked the question." He looked up at her again, his green eyes full of love, pleading with her to accept him. "Sydney Bristow, will you marry me?"

Sydney nodded, still unable to stop crying.

"Is that a yes?" he asked nervously.

Sydney pulled him up off the ground and into her arms, hugging him fiercely. "Of course. Yes. I want to marry you. You know I will," she breathed into his hair.

"Well, I kind of hoped," he quipped.

"Can I have my ring now?" she asked hopefully.

"Oh God! Of course! I'm sorry!" he apologised, fumbling to step back and pull the ring out of the box simultaneously. He grabbed her trembling hands, his shaking a little as well, and held his breath as he slid the ring onto her finger.

She held up her hand to admire it and laughed in delight. "It's beautiful, Vaughn!" she exclaimed.

He beamed in pride and pulled her back into his arms, lifting her slightly and twirling them around. "I love you so much," he swore passionately.

"I love you too," she replied, still crying tears of bliss as she admired the gorgeous ring now adorning her hand. "This is perfect," she whispered. "It was all perfect. I don't care about the picnic or the museum. This is even better."

"Better?" he laughed incredulously.

"Yes," she declared firmly. "I'm sure I would have loved everything you planned, but this is us, Vaughn. This is real. Anyone can plan some big romantic night, and it would have been wonderful, but only you could propose next to a broken-down car on the side of the road in some little town in Italy because you couldn't wait any longer."

Vaughn blushed self-consciously and pulled her back into a hug so he could bury his face in her neck. They stood like that for a few minutes, holding each other and committing this moment to memory, until the wind began to pick up, causing Sydney to shiver. "I guess we should call Weiss, huh?" he asked, not incredibly thrilled to return to reality.

"We'll miss our plane," she reminded him.

"Yeah," he nodded. He grabbed his phone from the car and grinned as an idea suddenly dawned on him. "You want to freak him out?" he asked mischievously.

"Always," she laughed.

"Here, you call," he instructed, handing her the phone. "Tell him you need him to pick us up, and sound really annoyed."

"You're awful," she laughed, even as she smiled at the plan. She carefully schooled her expression to better aide her little charade and dialled the number, turning so she wouldn't see Vaughn and lose it completely. When Weiss picked up, she curtly ordered him to come pick them up immediately. He sounded a little concerned, but not nearly worried enough, so Sydney added a little fuel to the fire and covered the phone with her hand while she muttered angrily at Vaughn. "Sorry," she apologised to Weiss when she finished. "He got us stuck out here, and it's getting cold. I just want to go home. Will you please come get us?"

He began to interrogate her, but she fought her laughter and cut him off to beg him to leave it alone. When she finally hung up, she burst out in laughter, turning to Vaughn and returning the phone. "Did it work?" Vaughn asked.

"Like a charm," she nodded. "He kept asking me what you did to make me so upset. I'm sure he's already planning an evening of heavy drinking when we get home."

"That's his solution to everything," he rolled his eyes. Noticing her shiver again, he pulled off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. He led her to a grassy spot not far from the car and sat down, pulling her into his lap so they could keep each other warm until Weiss arrived. Sydney sighed happily and rested against him, closing her eyes so she could fully take in the sounds and the smells of the night. She knew he would eventually propose, but ever since their conversation at the cafe, she figured he would wait until after the baby was born. They weren't in any rush to get married, and they knew they would be together anyway. After picking a ridiculous fight with him over the matter of engagement, she didn't think he would be too worried about surprising her anymore.

But as always, he did surprise her. Just when she thought she could predict his every move, he pulled off something like this and blew her away again. He did it that night at the train station, the night she realised she was in over her head. She never planned on loving him, especially since she was still mourning the loss of Danny, but he surprised her that night by completely breaking out of character and tossing the rule book to the fray. He proved his devotion that night without even knowing if she could ever feel the same way about him. Until that point, she did nothing to disclose the increasing attraction she felt towards him, and she really tried to conceal the burgeoning feelings of something more than just attraction. Any woman would be crazy not to give him a second glance, but few earned the opportunity to discover the depth of his loyalty and the vast expanse of his loving, forgiving heart. Before Will was kidnapped, she knew he would protect her and do what he could to help her through this impossible sea of lies and betrayals and failures, but until he showed up at the train station to rescue her from an impossible fate, she had no idea how far he would go to keep her safe and happy.

When she returned home from Taipei without him at her side, she felt lost, helpless, completely alone in this horrible world. But somehow she knew she would find him, and she knew that when she did, he would jump right back into the line of fire despite his horrible ordeal at the hands of her mother and Khasinau. Michael Vaughn was not a man to give up because of the dangers imposed upon his own life, especially when someone else's life hung in the balance - particularly hers. As soon as he was home, he returned to the agency to be her handler, not even requesting a few personal days to allow the bruises to heal and the nightmares to ease. When they sat in the warehouse and discussed how he survived the crushing wave of water and the even more deadly schemes of Irina Derevko, she knew that he loved her. In the back of her mind, she decided they would be together, no matter what obstacles life or Sloane or the CIA threw in their way. But he surprised her then, too, by proving that even though he was the greatest and most caring man she had ever known, he was still human and fallible.

Seeing him weak and horribly sick, possibly near death, in the hospital nearly killed her. When she held his hand and looked into his cloudy green eyes, she felt the most pure and intense fear of her life. His eyes were supposed to be clear and focused on her, but he couldn't seem to fix them on anything, and though she still saw the man she loved through them, she could also see him fading away. Her fear only multiplied exponentially when he begged her to be careful. The fact that he could worry about her safety even as he lay dying from a cruel and painful virus just proved to her that she would never find anyone like him. She would never find another man that loved her so much, and she couldn't even begin to fathom what life without him would be like. Then his eyes fluttered closed and that horrid tone filled the room, and she couldn't imagine feeling anything worse than the sheer dread she felt as they rushed him out of the room so they could possibly save his life.

She was wrong.

She fought the tears that streamed down her cheeks, trying to remind herself that if she was just strong and brave enough she could recover the antidote and save him. Motivated by her need for him, she rushed towards the plane waiting for her, only to run into the last person she ever wanted to see. Hearing that woman speak of Vaughn with such familiarity, with that possessive tone only Ishe/I should be allowed to use, Sydney felt her world begin to crumble. If Vaughn died, he would be waiting for her. But suddenly she realised this life might be too much for him, even if he did survive. Maybe he would settle for Alice, get married, have adorable little children and eventually abandon his role as her handler in order to raise his family. Even losing him to death would be easier than losing him to Alice. She wouldn't have to picture him with her, smiling, laughing, touching her in that soft, intimate way she knew so well. And the worst part of it all was that she Iknew./I She knew he loved her more than he could ever love Alice, and it scared her more than anything that he would be willing to trade true love for the comfort and security of a wife that didn't drag him across the globe and through the front lines of the espionage battle on a weekly basis, for the mundane, casual life of a typical American suburbanite.

For a while she tried to accept that the one man she wanted was the one man she could never have, and she tried to convince herself she would be okay when he moved on with his life without her. Maybe Love and Sydney Bristow just weren't compatible. She was disappointed that he stumbled from the altar she put him upon, but she didn't begrudge him for being capable of sin and hurt. She couldn't possibly fault him for wanting something normal and safe - something she could never give him as long as Arvin Sloane walked the earth. Yes, it wounded her, and she lashed out at him in anger for the entire situation. A part of her believed it would be easier if they hashed it all out, unloaded all of the emotional scars and baggage they heaped on one another and unwound the complicated past so they could begin to hate one another. It would be easier if she didn't have to see him, didn't have to notice the look of longing in his eyes. But then he did the one thing no man had ever done before: he broke down her carefully constructed barrier, her shield of rules that kept him from coming to close to the part of her that bled. He found that one tiny chink in her armour, and he attacked.

She loved him all the more for refusing to let her surrender, and now, sitting in the grass as he sheltered her from the wind, she couldn't imagine him loving her more. But looking back over their long and complicated history, she knew he would find a way to make it happen. She sighed contentedly despite the cool breeze and the dirt covering her favourite dress and closed her eyes until she heard the motor of an approaching car.

"You awake?" he asked quietly.

"Barely," she nodded. "But I'm ready to go home."

He stood and helped her up, intertwining their fingers as Weiss bolted out of the car and gaped at the sight. He blinked in confusion as he saw the expressions of peace and happiness on their faces, and he rolled his eyes when he realised he had been played. The ring glinting on Sydney's finger gave away their little joke, and they both grinned widely as he wiped imaginary sweat from his brow. "You two really got a kick out of that, didn't you?" he accused them as they climbed into the van.

"We did," Sydney confirmed.

"Syd, did you actually agree to marry this buffoon on the side of the road?"

"Hey!" Vaughn protested with mock hurt.

"Aww," Sydney laughed, kissing him on the cheek. "Of course I did. Look at this ring. And he's not bad to look at, either."

"Gee, thanks Honey," Vaughn rolled his eyes.

"Okay, you can stop with the cutsey lovey-dovey stuff anytime now," Weiss informed them. "I already had to deal with him all week."

Sydney's eyes twinkled with a glint of mischief as Vaughn groaned and buried his head in his hands. "How bad was he?" she asked curiously.

"Syd," Vaughn pleaded.

"Bad," Weiss supplied immediately. "You remember how he came over to watch a hockey game last week? He was actually coming over to get completely hammered so he could ask your dad on Sunday."

"Weiss," Vaughn warned him lowly. "You really don't need to tell her all this. You don't need to know this, Syd."

"Yes I do!" she argued vehemently. "I think it's sweet! Did you really ask my dad?"

"He did," Weiss answered for him. "He was worried he would back out, so I got him _really_ drunk so he would loosen up a little."

"This was entirely against my will," Vaughn defended himself. "I went to ask for his advice, and as I've said before, Weiss' solution to everything is to get so drunk you can't remember your problem to begin with."

"Is that why you were so sick Sunday night?" she asked sympathetically. Weiss laughed hysterically, and Vaughn shot her an evil glare. He managed to hold his alcohol pretty well after getting smashed at Eric's, but he lost it after finally approaching her father. He'd been so terrified, and as soon as it was over, he came home and proceeded to throw up the rest of the night. She just assumed he caught a touch of the stomach flu, so she took care of him all evening, dabbing the sweat from his forehead and making sure he drank plenty of Gatorade when he finally finished.

"Dude, you got sick?" Weiss asked, barely concealing his sheer delight with Vaughn's utter humiliation. "Syd, no hangover could be that bad, and your _fiance_ here has had some practise with massive quantities of alcohol."

"Thank you so much, Weiss," Vaughn remarked wryly. "Yes, Syd, I was so scared to ask your dad that I came home and thoroughly made an ass of myself," he confessed.

"You really asked my dad for permission?" she asked softly, the teasing glint in her eyes replaced by a spark of affection.

"Well, not for permission exactly. I did ask for his blessing, but I told him I was going to marry you no matter what he said. And after a few well-placed threats and reminders that he could kill me and make it look like an accident, he gave me his approval."

Sydney wished he was kidding, but she had a feeling the scene played out exactly as Vaughn described. "Thank you," she said quietly, too softly for Weiss to hear.

"Man, no wonder you threw up," Weiss commented as they arrived back at base. Sydney and Vaughn climbed out of the car, shyly making their way through the cheering agents to grab their luggage so they could change into comfortable clothes before boarding the plane to fly back home.

Sydney bent over to rifle through her suitcase and gasped suddenly as a sharp pain pierced her stomach. She moved her hand to cover the small bulge and slowly let out her breath as the pain ebbed away, but Vaughn was immediately alert and by her side. "What happened?" he asked in concern. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she smiled tenderly, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "Baby was just reminding me that he or she is here too."

"Really?" he asked, his eyes glowing with excitement. "Did she move?"

"No," she shook her head. "Not yet. Soon, though. Pregnancy isn't all that comfortable, Vaughn," she reminded him. She bent over once more and yanked a pair of yoga pants from her suitcase. She quickly shed her dress and pulled on the soft pants, suddenly anxious to be in the most comfortable clothes she could find. Before she could even ask, Vaughn tossed her one of his sweatshirts. "You're the best," she grinned as she pulled on the oversized sweatshirt.

"Better?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Much," she nodded. He picked up her suitcase and helped her back to the van for the short drive to the airfield. The other agents gave them a little privacy and sat towards the front of the plane, leaving them plenty of room to spread out in the back. Vaughn raised the armrests between them and let Sydney lay down against him, her head in his lap while he ran his fingers through her hair.

"Are you really okay with this being your last mission for a while?" he asked after a long period of content silence.

Sydney made no effort to move, but looked up into his face. "Yeah, I really am," she assured him. "This," she said, indicating their relaxed position, "and this," she added, pointing to her stomach, "are the most important things to me. If that means I stay home for a while and do boring desk work, I'll stay at home and do boring desk work. I can live with that."

"I love you," he swore.

Sydney sighed and closed her eyes. "I love you, too." She grew silent for a while, and Vaughn thought perhaps she had fallen asleep. He shifted slightly to lean against a pillow so he could sleep as well, and Sydney stirred. She opened her eyes and rolled over, sitting up so she could look him in the eye. "Vaughn," she murmured urgently. "What you said before...about getting us out of this life..."

"I meant it," he interjected.

"I know," she nodded. "I just...I wanted to say...marrying you isn't contingent on that," she blurted. "I want this all to end, but I want to be with you more. You and the baby will always be my first priority. I just wanted you to know that."

He stared at her for a moment, and she met his gaze. Realising that she was being completely honest, he pulled her into a hug. "You're amazing, Syd," he breathed.

"So are you," she replied easily. "Oh, and Vaughn?" she asked, the teasing tone from earlier suddenly back in her voice. "I think it's really cute that asking my dad if you could propose made you nervous enough to throw up."


	7. Chapter 7

Vaughn smiled happily and relaxed in his seat as his house came into view. When he was little, he always told his father about his plans to become some great world traveller, to see and do everything, to be a real explorer. It seemed so exciting and romantic at six- and seven-years old, but his dad always just chuckled softly. Vaughn didn't understand at the time, but his father lived that life, and he knew now that the best part of Bill Vaughn's day was returning to his wife and son. He didn't believe his dad when he told him that the greatest adventure was coming home, but now, engaged with a child on the way, he realised just how right his dad was. He'd travelled all over the world, seen beautiful cities and dangerous terrains, and been on a thousand crazy operations to break into the Vatican and hunt down international terrorists, but that life eventually bored him. Every city started to look the same, and every time he left Los Angeles, he counted down the hours until he came home again.

As he pulled the cumbersome green Land Rover into the driveway, he briefly wondered if they should think about getting another car. Sydney would die before she would drive a mini van, but his little BMW was barely big enough for the two of them, and this huge, unwieldy SUV didn't exactly lend itself to baby seats and strollers. Sydney loved this car, and he couldn't ask her to sell it, so maybe they should sell his and see about getting something more mid-sized. The thought almost made him laugh; he never thought he would even consider selling his sleek navy blue BMW in favour of a family-sized sedan, and yet here he was, parking in the driveway of their comfortable two-story home and making plans to buy a baby seat and a stroller. His life certainly took a radical change of directions after the fall of SD-6, but he found he didn't at all mind his new, nearly normal family life.

Loosening his tie, Vaughn stepped out of the car and grabbed his briefcase out of the back seat. Sydney had a doctor's appointment this afternoon, so they parted company after lunch and went their separate ways. He liked to go with her to appointments, but he had work to do, and it was just a routine checkup, so she didn't mind going alone. She decided to come home after the appointment since she had most of her work completed, and they made plans to go out for dinner and maybe to a movie if they could find anything appealing. He rid himself of his suit jacket as soon as he entered the house, tossing it over the arm of the couch and kicking off his shoes in the process. Sydney hated it when he left his things laying around, but she'd yet to do anything about it.

"Syd, I'm home," he called, casually wandering into the kitchen to rifle through the mail on the countertop. He sorted the bills and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, expecting Sydney to come greet him in a few minutes. He noticed the light on the answering machine blinking to alert him of new messages, so he quickly hit the play button and jotted down the people he and Sydney needed to call. His mom wanted to schedule dinner in the near future, and he shook his head wryly at her insistence on always calling the house despite the fact that they were rarely ever at home for any extended length of time, especially through the week. Francie left another message, sounding mildly perturbed that Sydney hadn't returned her calls yet, but he knew she was mostly teasing. Finally, Will had left a brief order for one of them to give him a call so they could discuss Francie's upcoming birthday. By the time he finished the messages, Sydney was still nowhere to be seen.

"Sydney," he yelled again, a little louder this time. "Where do you wanna eat?" She still didn't answer, and he sighed in mild frustration, padding lightly down the hallway to look for her. As soon as he crossed the threshold to their bedroom, he heard the distinctive sound of retching coming from the bathroom. He quickened his pace and hurried in to find his fiancee hunched miserably over the toilet. She hadn't thrown up in nearly three months - not since the beginning of her second trimester and the end of her morning sickness. "Aw, Honey," he sighed in sympathy, kneeling down beside her and placing a hand on her shoulder to alert her of his presence.

She didn't even acknowledge him, too busy emptying the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl to even begin to raise her head to face him. Her body lurched painfully, and from this viewpoint, he could see the tears streaming wildly down her pale cheeks as the violent spasms ripped through her. Knowing there was little he could do for her until the vomiting slowed, he rose and grabbed a paper cup off the side of the sink, filling it with cool water and wetting a washcloth to place over her neck. He'd become quite adept at handling her spells of nausea in the first three months of her pregnancy, so this wasn't new to him. The back of her thin t-shirt was damp to the touch, soaked with sweat, so he gently rubbed the heated skin, allowing the cool water to soothe her.

Vaughn mentally put a hold on their plans for the night and cleared their schedule for the weekend since she seemed to have come down with something. His stomach ached as he watched her fighting to keep her eyes focused as the force of her heaving deprived her of oxygen, and he eased his hands underneath her shirt to massage the screaming muscles. Finally, the combination of his touch and sheer exhaustion brought the vomiting to a halt. She collapsed wearily, allowing her head to fall to the toilet seat, too tired to move any further.

"C'mere, Syd," Vaughn murmured, gently wrapping his arms around her and pulling her away from the mess she'd made. He flushed the toilet and leaned against the wall, coaxing her into submission until she rested in his lap, her head tucked beneath his chin. Tears still fell down her cheeks, but she didn't make a sound as he rocked her slowly and stroked her wet hair away from her clammy skin. "What can I do?" he whispered against her ear. "You need anything? Water, tylenol...?"

Sydney shook her head miserably, burrowing further into his chest. He obliged for now, knowing she was probably worn out and desperately in need of a few minutes to rest. She grew still and limp in his arms, her laboured breathing steadying out and resuming a normal pace. He quietly shifted her, awkwardly moving his hand beneath her knees and the other under her shoulders to pick her up. She groaned in pain as he moved her, but he knew she would feel much better sleeping in their bed than on the cold tile floor. He carried her into the bedroom and placed her on the bed, kissing her forehead before leaving her to find some clothes. He pulled one of his old t-shirts and her favourite sweatpants and laid them next to her, and then quickly returned to the kitchen to grab her a bottle of water.

When he returned to the bedroom, he found her wearing the clothes he laid out, the dirty ones thrown to the floor in unwonted carelessness. She _really_ must be sick to just toss her t-shirt and jeans next to the bed, and he prepared himself for a long and gruelling night. "Hey, you should drink some water," he urged quietly as he spread out next to her. She was curled up in a tight ball, facing the far wall of the bedroom until he moved into her line of sight. Her eyes looked hollow and sad, obviously darkened by something other than illness. "What's wrong, Syd?" he asked, reaching out a hand to stroke her cheek. She moved towards his touch and clenched her eyes tightly shut, trying in vain to keep the tears locked beneath her lids. "Come on," he prodded, pulling her face to his so he could kiss her forehead. "What happened? Are you sick?"

"No," she shook her head miserably, pulling the blankets up to her chin and crawling into his embrace. He didn't at all mind holding her, but her refusal to tell him anything worried him more than her pitiful display in the bathroom.

"Work with me here," he urged her. "I can't help if I don't know what's wrong."

She rolled over slightly and looked up into his eyes, hers still filled with tears. "Kitchen table," she croaked out.

Vaughn let go of her, confused by the cryptic response. But Sydney just rolled back into covers, clearly unwilling to provide any more information. "Get some sleep," he sighed, kissing her on the forehead.

He watched until she fell asleep, and then rose to investigate her strange answer to his inquiry. He immediately noticed a stray envelope perched dangerously on the edge of the table, away from the rest of the mail sitting on the counter. Curious, he stepped closer. The plain brown envelope, addressed simply to Sydney Bristow, bore no return address or indication of its origin. The straight block letters immediately alerted his senses, the hair on his neck rising as adrenaline and fear syphoned through his veins. Sydney would have known instinctively, perhaps even faster than he did, that only trouble arrived in untraceable packages. _What were you thinking, Syd?_ he mentally berated her. This should have gone to the JTF the second it fell in her hands as she casually flipped through the otherwise innocuous pile. He suspected she knew the contents were threatening, but not physically harmful. She'd done this long enough to know when danger was imminent. Still, the CIA could inspect and examine it, try to identify the sender and the source. At the very least, she should have waited for him. She should have waited for him to come home so she wasn't alone, fragile without support.

_But she's a big girl, Mike,_ he reminded himself. Sometimes his protective instincts overshadowed his common sense, and he forgot that she handled crises on her own for twenty-four years. Just because they were together and she was pregnant didn't make her any less capable of acting independently. He shouldn't be upset that she opened her own mail without him holding her hand, but it just gutted him to think of her stumbling upon something awful without anyone here to calm and reassure her. Obviously the shock was severe; he'd never seen her distraught to the point of physical manifestation. That just wasn't his Sydney, pregnant or not. The baby had increased her propensity for tears, but it didn't account for a complete breakdown such as he just witnessed.

His own stomach churned as he fingered the dull edges of the envelope, contemplating whether or not he should open it and see for himself. She certainly didn't want to explain, and it might help him understand...but he really had no desire to find out what made his fiancee crumble. In this business, morbid curiosity never paid. Stifling that human urge to peek saved him from trauma on more than one occasion. But in this particular case, the damage had been done. Sydney had already taken the blunt of the blow, and now his only chance of softening it was trying to help her cope. To do that, he needed to know.

He tilted the envelope, hands trembling, and allowed a glossy print to slide from its hiding place into his anxious fingers. His heart stilled painfully, sucking the oxygen out of his lungs as his mind processed the image he held. The photo felt as hot as the bright orange flames it depicted, and the veil that slipped over his mind felt as dark as the thick smoke rising out of the remains of the car. He dropped the picture to the floor, shaking his hands frantically to quell the fire and soothe the raging burn. He felt the searing pain in his arm, the crushing pressure in his chest, the sudden throbbing of his head. He saw the billowing smoke from the engine, the shards of broken glass reflecting the harsh glow of the headlights, the sticky, viscous blood dripping down his cheek and onto his twisted arm. He heard the sickening crunch of metal, the blaring car horn, Sydney's terrified voice screaming for his attention and dragging him back from the brink of unconsciousness.

Air continued to elude him as the memories played back with startling clarity in his mind, taunting him with the confusion and fear he felt in that excruciating moment. He kept hearing Sydney's desperate pleas, begging him to listen, and the sound of it drove him to his knees. It saved him at the time, but now, he kept imagining the look on her face as she heard everything through her cell phone. He didn't want to see the aftermath of the wreck, didn't want to see what happened, but thanks to the awful photograph, it was now etched permanently into his mind in between his father's grave and Sydney's crying face. He realised now just how closely death brushed against him, how she saved him from an almost unavoidable fate. He almost left her alone in this world, almost lost his chance to bend down on one knee on the side of the road in Italy and tell her that he loved her, wanted her to be in his life forever. If he had died that day, he wouldn't have ever known about his baby, and his child would repeat the long-standing tradition of having only one parent. Without warning, his mind shifted to the future, torturing him with thoughts of his baby growing up without him and Sydney struggling to raise a child in the midst of yet another loss.

The thoughts suddenly cut off as he realised he couldn't breathe. He noticed a little belatedly that he was gasping in short, shallow gulps, his body burning and his head clouding as panic overtook him. He couldn't get enough air into his lungs, couldn't think at all, couldn't lift his head as it grew heavy and fell towards his chest. His own strangled cries sounded foreign and detached, and his arms and legs felt leaden and stiff. His fingers involuntarily clenched into fists, his muscles beginning to spasm from the lack of oxygen.

A pair of familiar arms suddenly clutched his shoulders and pulled him down to the carpet, forcing his head between his knees. "Breathe, Honey," she instructed. She sat down behind him and massaged the knots in his back with tender concern, speaking quietly as he continued to gasp. "Vaughn, breathe," she demanded again, a little more urgently when he failed to comply. "Come on, Honey. Slow it down. You're okay. You just need to take a deep breath and let it out." She moved one hand to the centre of his chest to gently restrain the panicked gasps and force him to focus. If he could think, he would find it humorous just how quickly they swapped places, switching from one role to the next with only a second's notice. Right now, however, his only objective was filling his lungs with air again so he could stop the horrible ache in his chest and the lightheadedness causing the room to spin crazily around him. He looked down at the hand resting on his chest and focused on her fingers, trying to mimic her slow, deliberate motions. "That's it," she encouraged, keeping her hand on his chest to steady him while the other moved to rake through his hair. "Deep breaths," she reminded him.

Relief began to set in as the panic abated, and his body went limp with exhaustion. He still focused on regaining control of his breath, but his mind began to clear again, and Sydney's face no longer swam before him. He moved slowly away from her to lean against the wall, pushing his head back and wrapping his arms around himself to calm the shivering. He'd never had a panic attack before, never lost his ability to control his own emotions, and the fear still gripped him. For someone that thrived on order and control, being unable to breathe without assistance was incredibly frightening. Anyone would react the way he did if they saw something like that, but he never considered himself to let mere feelings choke him like that, and he hated that Sydney witnessed all of it. He comforted her and promised to make things right, but he couldn't even take care of himself.

Oblivious to his sudden shame, Sydney moved closer and reached out. "Give me your hands," she commanded quietly, her voice sweet and devoid of any reprimand. He obeyed and held out his arms, closing his eyes as she gently rubbed his fingers, coaxing each one until it yielded and unfurled from the impossibly tight fist.

"I...I thought you were...asleep," he said, struggling to form the words.

"You were kind of loud," she admitted, kissing his forehead to ease the humiliation he must feel.

"Sorry," he sighed, forcing his eyes open.

"No," she shook her head. "Don't be. I'm glad I heard you. You had me worried for a minute." She kissed his forehead again and played soothingly with his hair. He relaxed against the wall, too tired to argue, and allowed her touch to bring him back to his safe reality in his own living room in his own home. "Stay right here for just a minute. I'll be right back, okay?" she asked.

He nodded wearily and let go of her hand. The terror that seized him moments before lessened now into a dull ache in the back of his head. Someone did that to them. Someone tried to kill him, and when they failed, when Sydney thwarted their plan, they sent a photograph to torture her. He felt awful enough seeing the picture, and he knew it must have been even worse for her. If it had been her in that car, he didn't know how he would even cope with seeing the aftermath of her attempted murder. He shuddered and tried to force the thoughts away as Sydney rummaged loudly through the kitchen.

"Here," she offered, sitting down next to him again and handing him a bottle of Gatorade. "Drink up."

He gratefully accepted her offer and swallowed several large gulps to soothe his parched throat. "Thank you," he said softly.

"Of course," she smiled. "You doing okay?"

"It's sick, Sydney," he shook his head in disgust. "They're just trying to prove that they can get to us. Dammit, Syd," he cursed lowly. "They sent that to Iour/I house. And the only reason they sent it was to make us scared."

"Yeah, well, they're succeeding," she remarked bitterly. "It was enough hearing it and imagining the details." She shook her head, trying to exorcise those awful images neither could move past. She closed her eyes as tears came again. "A few seconds and you would have been dead," she breathed painfully.

"I know," he whispered, not even bothering her to remind her that he wasn't, that he was here with her, healed from the wreck and good as new, save for a few faint scars and a new phobia of semi-trucks. None of those things would comfort her in the slightest, just as they didn't comfort him. The times he came within inches of losing her still haunted him, even when he held her and knew that she was safe and happy and alive. Any reassurances would be a waste of words now. He felt his own heart beating steadily and knew that he walked away from the accident, but that didn't stop him from hyperventilating when he saw the wreckage that very nearly consumed it. It would stop her from wondering _what if? _and knowing how close she came to living out her worst nightmares.

"God, Vaughn," she murmured helplessly. "I just..." she trailed off and wrung her hands anxiously, biting her lip to keep from crying again.

He carefully pulled her until she rested with her head on his shoulder and placed a tiny kiss on the crown of her head. They sat together for a few minutes, absorbing all the details and trying to replace the images in their heads with the ones that actually existed here and now. "How are you feeling?" he asked after a few minutes, remembering the breakdown prior to his own.

"Okay," she shrugged. "I don't need to throw up anymore."

"Well that's something," he tried to smile. She didn't return to sentiment and laid her head back down. "Let's go lay down," he suggested.

Sydney stood up first and intertwined their fingers. She slowly pulled him up, immediately cradling his head and pushing it down against her shoulder as a wave of dizziness assailed him. When he steadied, she grabbed his hand and squeezed tightly, as much for her benefit as it was for his. They walked slowly to the bedroom, and she deposited him on the bed while she grabbed boxers and a t-shirt for him. He quickly changed clothes and then joined her in bed, pulling her close and savouring as much contact as their bodies allowed. Momentarily agreeing to leave the horrible incident shelved for a later time and place, they quietly talked about their days. Vaughn couldn't even bear to speak of the accident or Sloane or her mother anymore while they were here in their bed, scared of ruining the solace they both found when they crawled beneath the covers together at the end of a long day.

Instead, Sydney delivered a glowing report from the doctor, indicating that all was well and she was progressing perfectly. She was mildly but happily surprised at every appointment, amazed that after all the beatings and druggings and training sessions she could still manage to carry and protect a tiny little life inside. A part of her accepted that kids would be out of the picture the first of many times that a run-in with a security guard landed her in a hospital. But so far, every test had been negative, and no abnormalities appeared. Vaughn proudly rubbed his hand over her stomach, thoroughly intrigued by its ever-changing shape. She balked about her appearance for a while, but she finally began to embrace her new body, amazed to be a part of something so normal and yet simultaneously miraculous. Everyone cooed with delight now, excited about Baby Vaughn's impending entrance into the world.

Vaughn proceeded to tease her for a few minutes as they once more brought up the topic of baby names. He still insisted that it was a girl, and refused to think anything else. They tossed back and forth several awful prospects, each one more absurd than the one before. Sydney kept a real list on the night stand, but they always seemed to subtract more than they added. Vaughn promised to give her the final naming rights, but as part of the deal, she could only pick from a list that he had approved beforehand. Every time he caught her adding without him, he stole the small notebook and crossed them out, until it had become an all-out war between them. Since neither really grasped the concept of compromise very well, the list remained short, with Candice, Catherine, Alexis, Sadie, and Audrey for a girl, and Matthew, Caleb, Adam, Kellen, and Dominic for a boy. Of course, both Will and Eric had suggested their own names - and several ridiculous female counterparts - but both Sydney and Vaughn agreed that the first name would not be in honour of any family member or friend.

Once they exhausted that topic, Vaughn tried to keep the mood light and the conversation far from the photograph still laying on the kitchen floor. Sydney dealt with her emotions by shutting down, and he knew if he didn't keep her engaged, she would just turn everything off and hide from the world. He, on the other hand, handled trauma by refusing to think about it. Their different styles lead to an interesting stalemate, as Sydney wanted to soak in the misery and Vaughn wanted to pretend it didn't exist. Anxious to keep her with him for now, he tossed around the idea of a brief vacation - Tahoe, perhaps - when they found a few spare days to relax.

But the avoidance could only last so long before the picture returned to both minds, destroying the semblance of peace created by their forced conversation. He knew the instant the memories assailed her by the sudden trembling of her body. "Syd," he murmured sympathetically, tightening his hold on her. She was lying with her back to his chest, and she pressed harder, clutching his hand with startling force and pulling it more firmly around her waist.

"I'm sorry," she apologised in a quavering voice. "I know you don't want to think about it-"

"Don't be sorry," he whispered, his lips planted in her hair.

"I need you closer," she insisted, tugging again on his hand.

"Okay, okay," he soothed, obliging as well as he could. "Relax. I'm here, Syd. It scared me too, but it's over. Barely a scar. Try not to think about it anymore. I'll call your dad in a little bit and have him step up security just to be on the safe side, and we can just lay low for a while, okay?"

She nodded, but he saw that she was still distressed. Honestly, he didn't feel much better, knowing that someone was sick enough to taunt them with photos of the traumatic incident and send it directly to their home address. He slept here with his fiancee, came here to escape the dangers of his career, and considered this place a safe haven. They might discuss their work here, but this place should be entirely separate from the office, and yet the hazards of their work lingered even here behind the walls covered with happy photographs of Sydney and Vaughn and their friends. The idea of of setting up a surveillance team around his own house disturbed him more than he would ever admit, but it was the only way to ensure Sydney's safety. If they could send a photograph, they could send agents, and if they could send agents, their lives were in immediate danger.

Knowing that the picture was still on the floor of the kitchen didn't help the situation, either. For Sydney's sake he would face it again, but he didn't want to remember the crash, the pain afterwards, and the terror in Sydney's voice when she begged him to get out of the car. He didn't want to see those bright orange flames engulfing the car knowing that someone wanted him, and Sydney, in the ashes.

Sydney continued to tremble next to him, and a sick feeling suddenly filled his gut. It wasn't _someone _that tried to kill him, especially not to Sydney. That person was her mother, the person Sydney once admired above all others, the one she attempted to model most of her life. She idolised her mom the way he did his dad, and even the thought of his father being responsible for hurting Sydney threatened to send him hurtling over the edge of reason. "Syd," he breathed. "You're upset about your mom," he whispered, squeezing her tight in his arms. She reacted violently every time someone mentioned Irina Derevko with good reason, but he needed her to admit what was really bothering her before he could hope to comfort her. He had a sneaking suspicion he just hit the nail right on the head.

She immediately stiffened in his embrace, convulsing slightly as a sob ripped up her spine into her throat until it escaped as a tortured wail. "Oh Syd," he murmured, pressing his lips into her hair.

"She tried to kill me," she cried, rolling over to bury her face in his chest. The sudden force of her clutch and the fingernails digging into his skin startled him at first, causing him to wince with pain, but he recovered from his shock and began rubbing her back. "She tried to kill me, Vaughn. She almost took you from me. She knows what they did to Danny, and then she did the same to you."

He began concocting various responses and assurances, but as he rehearsed them each in his head, he realised they all sounded false. As much as he hated it, she needed to cry herself out and exorcise all the sorrow deeply rooted in her chest. He whispered unintelligible words of comfort and continued stroking her back. "You're okay," he murmured.

"How could she do that, Vaughn? How could she just leave me? I thought she loved me, but she couldn't have, or she wouldn't have tried taking you from me."

"You can't understand her," he whispered. "There's no explanation for what she's done. I know you need that, but it just isn't there." He closed his as as a wave of memories washed over him: playing hockey with his dad, listening to the stories he made up at bedtime, watching him kiss his mom when they thought he wasn't watching...a thousand snapshots in his mind that kept the love he felt for his father strong and real. Those memories filled the void when he missed his dad so much it hurt. Those memories helped him move on with his life and motivated him to be the man he was today. Sydney's memories of Laura Bristow did the same for her, maybe to an even greater extent since her father was never there to help her; memories of her mom were the only comfort she ever received. And then one day she learned that everything she believed was false, her memories a charade and her ideals shattered. Everything that kept her going disappeared the day they learned her mother's sins, and once more, he was so grateful just to have her here, safe and relatively intact. If someone ever told him that Bill Vaughn didn't exist, he honestly didn't know how he would survive.

Losing his father at the tender age of eight was the worst thing that ever happened to him, but as Sydney broke down in his arms, he actually felt a little guilty that Irina Derevko let him off easy, allowing him to maintain the image of the perfect and heroic father in his mind, and then progressed to completely destroy Sydney. Inwardly, he cursed the day he went against his better judgment and encouraged her to see her mother. None of the aid she provided could possibly be worth the price Sydney was forced to pay. No amount of intel could atone for the suffering of this woman in his arms, and he let it happen. Her father was right to worry about entangled emotions, and not because Sydney was weak, but because Irina was manipulative and ruthless enough to prey upon her own daughter. He encouraged her because he thought Irina could be a means to an end, but it was probably the worst decision of his life. Maybe he couldn't stop Sydney from seeing her mom, but he complicated the situation by supporting their interaction. "You deserve so much more than this," he said quietly into her ear.

"How do I do it, Vaughn?" she asked, her sobs final lessening but her breath now interrupted by hiccups. "How do I reconcile what she did with the fact that she gave me life? How could I mean that little to her?"

"This has _nothing_ to do with you," he swore, backing away just enough to cup her face in his hands and force her to look at him. "Do you understand me? What she did...you're just a victim, Syd. She's sick, and that's the only explanation for any of it. It's not about you."

"She's still my mom," she protested, her voice small and shaky. "How am I supposed to raise a child when my own mother didn't even love me?"

"You'll do fine," he assured her. "I have no doubts about that. You're nothing like your mom. I know you, Syd, and I know you'll love this baby so much." He emphasised his assertion with a kiss to her forehead, allowing his lips to linger on her skin. "Get some rest," he suggested. "I'll have some dinner ready when you wake up, okay?"

She nodded, her tears slowing as his words sank in. She pulled tightly on his arm, keeping him tethered to her side. "Stay?" she asked quietly. "Will you stay until I fall asleep?"

"Of course," he answered easily, moving his hands to stroke her hair, knowing the motions would lull her to sleep. It didn't take long for her to succumb, and her breath became deep and even. He stayed a little longer in the bed, just needing to reassure himself, but then his stomach growled so loudly he feared it would disturb her. Checking to make sure she was really asleep, he crawled from her side and crept to the kitchen, reminding himself to breathe when he faced the picture again. By some miraculous twist of fate, the photo fell face down when he dropped it, so he quickly grabbed it and shoved it back into the envelope to take to the agency.

There was no way in hell Sydney would ever forgive him if he left now, but there was no food in their house. Or, more accurately, none that only required water and/or a microwave. He could fix a decent pasta dish or two, and Sydney let him do the grilling to boost his manly pride, but other than that, he was worthless when it came to food preparation. Sydney was only slightly higher on the culinary ladder, but they were usually too tired to cook anyway, so one drawer in their kitchen was entirely devoted to takeout menus. He stood perplexed for a moment, unsure of what to do, and then grabbed the phone.

For one time in his life, Jack Bristow decided to take it easy on his future son-in-law, obviously too angry with his former wife and too concerned about his daughter to torture Vaughn at the moment. He actually sounded understanding, and not only did he pick up dinner and bring it over, but he also proposed an idea Vaughn himself hadn't thought of. He wasn't about to assume that Jack decided a sudden liking for him, but at least he managed to secure a decent meal and a plan to help Sydney (and himself) recover from the trauma they endured tonight.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up the phone and dialled a familiar number. "Bonjour, Maman," he greeted when his mother picked up the phone.

"Michael," she acknowledged happily. "Two calls in one week? You're spoiling me!" she teased.

Vaughn sighed, not really up for the usual banter right now. "This isn't an entirely unselfish call," he admitted.

"That's okay, dear. What do you need? How is that beautiful fiancee of yours?" she gushed, not at all conscious of the weary tone of his voice and the underlying sadness laced with each of his words.

"That's why I called, Mom," he began cautiously. "I was hoping maybe we could come down and stay with you for the weekend, maybe a little longer if we can get some time off work. Syd's dad was just here, and he mentioned us taking a vacation, so I think he'd probably be okay with us spending a week or so, if that's okay with-"

"Michael," his mom cut him off. "You're rambling."

"Sorry," he apologised sheepishly.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" she asked in concern. "I would love to have you and Sydney for as long as you'd like to stay, but I know this isn't just a spur of the moment vacation."

Vaughn massaged his temples and sat down heavily on one of the barstools in front of the counter. He knew when he called that she would detect something wrong, but he didn't want to tell her about the photograph. He'd glossed over the car accident in Paris, lying and telling her it was just an accident and that he only had a few bruises. He didn't enjoy lying to his mom, but sometimes the lies were easier for her to hear, and as long as he wasn't doing her any harm by concealing the truth, he preferred to spare her the pain complete honesty inevitably inflicted. It was a decision he made long ago, when he first decided to follow his father's footsteps and join the CIA. The decision was his to make, and he knew he had to do what he felt was right, but it tore him apart to know that his choice caused her far too many sleepless nights wondering if her son would suffer the same fate as her husband.

His plan worked for years, but now he finally reached the point where the lie landed him in a compromising situation. Sydney needed more than he could offer at the moment, and his mom seemed like the perfect solution. But his mom would never cooperate unless he told her the truth - all of it. And that also meant admitting that most of the Paris story was fabricated for her benefit.

"Maman, sit down," he instructed quietly.

"Michael, you're scaring me."

"I know, and I'm sorry," he sighed. "I just need to tell you a few things, and you're not going to like them."

"I gathered that," she said dryly.

He spoke slowly, mostly for his own benefit to prevent another panic attack, explaining the wreck in Paris. He told her everything he was authorised to tell - that he was sent there for work, that Sydney was supposed to be with him, and that someone put out a hit on their lives. She was crying by the time he admitted that it wasn't a minor traffic accident, but a brutal collision with a truck, that extended his trip to France.

"I don't understand, Michael," she said tearfully. "How did you make it out with only a few bruises if the car caught on fire?"

Vaughn took a deep breath and prepared for the worst. "Mom, I lied about that because I didn't want to upset you," he confessed. "I was pretty banged up. I broke my arm, knocked my head around a little, bruised some ribs, and inhaled a little too much smoke. I was on the phone with Sydney when it happened, and she kept me talking and got me out of the car before it blew up. It's not as bad as it sounds, Mom, I swear."

"Explain how it's not as bad as it sounds," she demanded, her voice somewhere between anger and hysteria. "Explain to me why my own son lied about nearly dying."

"I just didn't want you to worry!" he shouted in frustration. "Look, I'm really sorry I didn't tell you. I should have told you the truth about the accident. But you saw me, Mom. I'm fine. Sydney flew over and took care of me until I was ready to go home, and I'm fine," he assured her. "I need you to listen, Mom. I know I screwed up, but Syd really needs this. We got something in the mail today - a picture. I wasn't home when Sydney opened it, but it was a photo of the accident."

"Oh God!" she cried.

"We're fine, but we know her mom had something to do with it."

Vaughn allowed his mother a few minutes to cry after that, knowing that she needed time to process just as he and Sydney had. His mom was a strong woman, but her ability to empathise just made this worse. Hating Irina Derevko for killing her husband was a lot easier for Celia than hating Irina Derevko for using Sydney like a pawn in a deadly game of chess. Celia Vaughn had nearly thirty years to cope with the loss of her husband, but Sydney kept getting hurt, and every time they thought it was over, Sloane or Derevko struck again.

"Bring her here, Michael," she insisted as soon as she managed to compose herself.

"Thank you, Maman," he said appreciatively. "She's sleeping right now, and Jack brought us some dinner, so I'll get her packed and we'll leave right after we eat. Is that alright?"

His mother agreed, and Vaughn gently ended their conversation, knowing she would probably cry from now until he and Sydney arrived. The sooner they got there, the better it would be for everyone involved. Sydney wasn't awake yet, but he knew he'd have to wake her up within the next few minutes. He put their dinner in the microwave and got out the plates, buying her a few extra minutes of sleep.

To his surprise, she was already sitting up against the headboard when he crept in. She smiled softly, but he saw evidence of recent tears. "Hey," he said, taking a seat next to her and kissing her cheek. "You up for some dinner?" he offered. She nodded, and he helped her up. Instead of leading her to the kitchen, he took her to the couch and quietly instructed her to sit, handing her the remote so she could find something distracting on television while he gathered the food.

"When did you go out?" she asked in confusion, eyeing the white and red cartons from their favourite Chinese restaurant.

"I didn't," he admitted a little guiltily. "I um...I didn't want to leave you, so I...I called your dad."

Sydney laughed out loud and accepted the plate of orange chicken he offered. "You called my dad?" she asked incredulously.

"Hey," he laughed, tossing a fortune cookie at her. "Your dad and I are bonding."

"Right," she smiled. "That's part of his plan to get you comfortable so he can catch you off guard."

"I'm hurt by your lack of confidence."

"Sorry, Honey," she grinned.

They finished up their dinner, and he informed her of their spontaneous trip to San Diego. She seemed surprised, and maybe a little irritated that he planned this without her, but she couldn't hide the small amount of relief in her eyes. They packed quickly, and both felt much better as soon as they pulled out of the driveway and left the house for a few days.

Celia was ready for them the minute they pulled up, and she rushed out to meet her son and future daughter-in-law. She hugged Vaughn first, squeezing tightly to assure herself, and then let go and placed a small kiss on his cheek. He blushed, but Sydney smiled at the easy affection between him and his mother.

"Sydney," Celia exclaimed when she finished with her son. She opened her arms, and Sydney's resolve to stay strong crumbled. She fell into the older woman's embrace and sobbed against her shoulder, out of grief that her own mother wasn't here to hold her, and out of joy that someone else was.

After several minutes of crying, Sydney composed herself and straightened up. Vaughn had managed to slip away and carry their suitcases inside, leaving them alone on the front walkway. "I'm sorry," Sydney apologised sheepishly.

"Don't be," Celia shook her head. "You're my daughter now, alright? You don't have to think about her anymore. Whatever you need, you come to me."


	8. Chapter 8

Sydney tapped her foot impatiently, holding the phone to her ear with one hand and rearranging a few books and toys on the shelf with the other. "I'm feeling fine, Maman," she assured Celia, reminding herself that it was normal for _everyone_ to ask the same questions about the baby over and over, especially the future grandmother of the baby in question. She really didn't mind Celia's advice and frequent calls, and she usually called a few times a week anyway, but sometimes she just wanted to scream when people asked how she felt and if she was getting excited about her baby's birth, now fourteen weeks or so away. It seemed so soon to everyone, including Vaughn, but it felt like forever to Sydney. She was anxious to meet her child, but she was also tired of being tired. "I haven't been sleeping very well," she admitted.

"Well, I hope you're not working too much," Celia commented in concern.

"Oh no," Sydney laughed. "Not at all.You know how Michael is, and then you add my dad to the mix, and I don't do much of anything," she rolled her eyes. "But I've been taking some time off, anyway. There's not much for me to do right now, and I've been so tired it's just not worth it." She was almost surprised to hear the words coming out of her own mouth, but it was true. She missed having something important to do (even though Vaughn constantly reminded her that being a mommy was most important), but her pregnancy was taking a toll on her, and she really didn't have much motivation to trudge into work every day with a pounding headache and a sore back just so she could read a few reports.

Her newfound apathy began almost as soon as they returned from their impromptu vacation several weeks before. After spending a few days with Celia in San Diego, her father called and offered to help set up some additional security measures at the house. Vaughn, of course, jumped all over this, and Sydney felt a little relieved as well. So they extended their trip and spent a few days at Lake Arrowhead, relaxing and trying to put everything in Los Angeles far from their minds. She slept more that week than she had in a long time, but she came home just feeling _tired_. She knew a part of it was the baby, but the better portion was sheer emotional exhaustion. Going to work just reminded her of all the drama she wanted to forget, so she used the pregnancy as an excuse, and scaled back on her hours.

In all of her extra time, Sydney started to prepare the house for a baby. They still had a while, but as Celia reminded her, the closer she got to her due date, the less acitivity she would be up for. The anxiety and doubt was already keeping her awake, so she did everything she could to make sure the house was ready, even if she wasn't. She smiled to herself as she stepped back and surveyed her work in the spare room she and Vaughn decided to turn into a nursery. Originally they planned on making it the den, but since their bedroom was on the first floor, they moved the bookcase and desk to the extra room upstairs to make room for their baby just across the hall. In a moment of grandfatherly tenderness, her father had surprised her with the antique cherry crib she'd used as a baby. She had no idea he kept it in storage, but she was thrilled to have something from her childhood to share with her own child. Since then, she'd been adding pieces a few at a time, decorating and rearranging everything to her liking.

Vaughn tried to convince her to find out the sex of the baby, but she staunchly refused. Everything else about their child had been a surprise, so she figured the gender should be no exception. He was confident they would be meeting their baby girl in two months, so Sydney swore they were having a boy. In truth, she didn't have a clue, despite the insistence from other mothers that they "just knew" whether they were pregnant with a son or a daughter.

In accordance with the decision to keep the baby's sex a surprise, Sydney pored over decorating books in search of the perfect gender-neutral nursery theme. The moment she saw the adorable carrousel theme, Sydney knew it was perfect. Vaughn agreed, of course, and dutifully painted the room a light yellow as per his fiancée's request. The room was nearly finished now, and she spent the better part of the day adding the final touches to the decor.

Sydney straightened the watercolour print she had just finished hanging on the wall beside the bookshelf, and she smiled brightly as she heard the front door open. She and Vaughn were meeting Francie and Will for dinner this evening, so he made it home a little early to shower and change. "Syd?" he called down the hall.

"In the nursery," she yelled back.

He joined her just a moment later, greeting her with a sweet kiss before wrapping his arm around her waist and taking in the new decorations. "This is great, Syd," he praised. "You've been busy today."

"I have to do something to keep my mind from rotting," she rolled her eyes. "I'm so bored, Vaughn," she complained.

"I'm sorry," he laughed.

"No, you're not," she teased back.

"No," he conceded. "I'm not. I like having you home. And I like knowing that your life isn't in immediate danger. Are you sure you want to go back in the field after the baby's born?" he asked, just the slightest twinge of hope in his voice.

Sydney moved her hands to her stomach, her smile fading just a little as she studied his face. She hated that he worried about her so much, but she understood, and she couldn't fault him for being afraid that something might happen to her. She'd certainly had her share of nightmares, especially since the attempt on his life and the photograph reminding her how close she'd come to losing him. But the tiny kick against her hand reminded her why she had to go back in the field; she didn't want her son or daughter in the middle of this, and as long as Sloane was at large, her baby would be in danger. "Vaughn," she said softly, rising to her toes to kiss him on the cheek. "I promise, as soon as Sloane is gone, I'll quit. But you know I can't just sit on the sidelines and wait for someone else to find him…not when our baby's life is at stake."

"I know," he nodded sadly, sighing softly. "I love you anyway," he added, his lips turning upwards in a teasing smile.

"That's generous of you, Mr. Vaughn," Sydney laughed. "And I'm glad. I love you too."

Vaughn kissed the top of her head and released her so he could walk around the nursery and see what she'd added. "This is so perfect, Syd," he grinned as he examined a lamp now sitting on top of the dresser. "Our little girl is going to love it."

"You're impossible," Sydney sighed. "You know if we have a girl you're not going to be able to train a little hockey player," she pointed out.

"Who says?" he grinned. "She can be the first female player for the Kings."

"You'd let your daughter be surrounded by young male hockey players all the time?" she raised an eyebrow.

A flicker of fear lit his face, causing Sydney to burst out in laughter. He had already begun compiling a list of rules for who could and could not date his daughter, and she knew he would beat away the boys with sticks the moment they tried to touch her. "She can just be a Kings fan," he amended thoughtfully.

"That's what I thought. You want anything to drink?" she offered.

He nodded and followed her to the kitchen as they briefly discussed their days and the antics of Weiss and Marshall at the office. Sydney missed the adrenaline of field work, and her current desk duties kept her out of the loop when it came to the latest missions, but she quickly discovered that hearing all about the office happenings from Vaughn was almost as appealing, and a lot less taxing. She would never admit it to anyone, but she actually liked the domesticity they had attained. Something about him coming home in the evening and telling her about his day made her feel incredibly normal, and normal was worth the boredom that accompanied it.

Sydney retrieved a bottle of water and passed it to Vaughn just as the phone rang. He picked it up and mouthed that it was Weiss, indicating that she should go ahead and start getting ready for dinner without him. "Join me in the shower," she whispered just loud enough for him to hear. He nodded enthusiastically, totally ignoring whatever Weiss was saying.

"Sorry, Weiss, can you say that again?" he asked as Sydney smirked and disappeared down the hall.

Fully confident that Vaughn would wrap up the conversation as quickly as humanly possible, Sydney turned on the water and slid into her robe. Unless they were running late for work, they rarely ever showered apart now. Vaughn argued that it saved water, but she playfully protested, reminding him that their showers now took twice as long as before.

Suddenly she heard his voice rising, taking on a nervous pitch as he continued to speak into the phone. Instinctively, she assumed it was a work call, and they wanted him back in for some reason or another. It seemed strange to her at first since she'd always been a field agent, but Vaughn only asked to be on active duty when he started working with her. He had to read his own share of dry reports, but there was more for him to do since he already had experience with the projects they assigned. She sighed to herself and prepared to call her friends to cancel, not really in the mood to go out if he couldn't come with her. Tonight had been Will's idea, and he'd been trying for the last two weeks to get them together.Though she and Francie had met a few times for lunch or shopping, the four of them hadn't been out in months. She started to stand and return to the kitchen, but just as she reached the door, she heard him wearily end the call and hang up. A few minutes passed and he still didn't appear, so she quietly padded down the hall to find him.

He stood against the wall, slumping heavily with his head in his hands. Her heart leapt to her throat at the sight, immediately fearing the worst. "Vaughn?" she asked timidly.

He looked up, eyes bright with unshed tears. "Syd," he whispered brokenly.

"Vaughn, what is it?" she asked fearfully, not sure she wanted to hear the answer. "Do you have to go in?"

Vaughn shook his head, unable to look at her. "No," he rasped.

"Vaughn, please," she begged, beginning to sound a little desperate. "You're scaring me. What's going on?"

He took a deep breath and summoned the courage to look her in the eye. She immediately knew something was horribly wrong, and tears sprang to her own eyes. "Vaughn…"

He forced himself to a standing position and walked over to take her hand. He quietly led her to the couch, gently easing her down next to him and wrapping one arm securely around her, squeezing her hand with the other for comfort. She leaned heavily against him, trying to draw whatever strength she could from his embrace before he delivered the crushing news. She could still hear the shower running in the distance, but all thoughts of dinner were thoroughly erased from her mind, ruined by the heartbroken expression on his face. "Sydney, Honey," he began gently, his voice barely audible as his breath tickled her ear. "God, I don't even know how to say this," he murmured.

"Just tell me. Please, Vaughn," she pleaded.

"Syd," he began again, his breath hitching in his throat. He swallowed past the lump of emotion and held her tighter, as though he was afraid she might dissolve in his arms. "Syd, Will's dead," he finally managed.

Sydney stiffened in his arms, her mind shutting down as she refused to process what he'd told her. It couldn't be true; Will was just an analyst and a friend. She'd lost too many people in this life, and almost lost the one closest to her heart. Fate couldn't possibly be cruel enough to tear away another soul so vital to her existence. Vaughn pressed his lips against her hair and began to sway slightly, rocking her back and forth in a desperate attempt to alleviate just the tiniest ounce of her pain. Still, she refused to accept it, refused to believe that her closest friend could possibly be dead.

"Sydney," Vaughn whispered. "Syd, talk to me," he implored. "Say something," he tried again, terrified that she was going into shock.

"No," she rasped, shaking her head fervently. "No, it's a mistake. It has to be a mistake. He's just an analyst. He can't be dead, Vaughn…he can't be…"

"I'm so sorry, Syd," he breathed.

"Vaughn, please," she begged, eyes filling with tears. She just wanted him to tell her it was mistake, that there was some kind of mix-up with the information and that it wasn't really her friend that was dead. "We're supposed to go out to dinner," she cried. "We're all going out for dinner…"

Vaughn just shook his head, trying to hold her even tighter before she completely fell apart. "I'm sorry, Sydney," he murmured again, tears forming in his own eyes as she began to shake in his arms. "It was him, Syd. He's dead."

"How?" she sobbed. "Was it an accident? It had to be an accident…he's just an analyst. Why would anyone want to kill him? He didn't do anything wrong!"

"I know, Sydney," he whispered. "He didn't do anything wrong. He didn't deserve this."

Sydney could tell he was holding something back, trying to protect her from some horrible truth. "What happened, Vaughn?" she asked again. "Tell me what happened to him."

"Syd," he began softly, running his hands up and down her arms. "Francie…she found him. He was murdered, Sydney. He was in the bathtub."

Sydney's mouth dropped open in a silent scream, tears streaming wildly down her pale cheeks. She tried to stand, suddenly desperate to run away, as though she could escape this if she just ran far enough. But Vaughn pulled her back, unwilling to let her weather this alone. She finally found her breath, and the scream became audible as she crumpled in a heap into his lap. "No," she wailed. "No. Not Will. Not him…"

Vaughn clenched his eyes shut to stop the flow of tears in a noble effort to be strong for her. He could feel her anguish seeping into him, and his heart broke for her and for Francie. "I am so sorry, Sydney," he choked. "I wish I could give him back to you. I would do anything to give him back to you."

"He was just a man, Vaughn. He was just a man like Danny. He didn't do anything wrong. This is my fault, Vaughn," she cried, turning in his arms to sob against his chest.

"No," he swore firmly. "No, Sydney. This is not your fault. Don't even think that. You didn't deserve this anymore than he did."

She raised her head to look him in the eyes, surprised to see his face contorted in agony as well. His expression only made her cry harder as she thought of all the people who loved Will just as much as she did. "It was retaliation, Vaughn," she said, her voice just barely on the edge of sanity and hysteria. "He didn't kill us in Paris so he came after my friend. This _is_ my fault. Will is dead because he's my friend, because he loves me."

"Sydney," Vaughn pleaded. "Sydney, look at me. Listen to me," he demanded. "Sloane did this, not you. No matter why Sloane did this, you are not the one that killed Will. It isn't your fault that he loved you, and I know for a fact Will would never blame you for this, just like Danny wouldn't blame you. I know you're hurting, but you HAVE to believe me when I tell you this is not your fault."

"But Vaughn," she protested tearfully, "they both died just because they loved me. Just like Sloane tried to kill you."

"He targeted you, Sydney. He's a sadistic bastard and he targeted you for reasons beyond your control. It's not fair that you've had to lose so many people, but you are not responsible for their deaths," he vowed.

She said nothing, allowing her sorrow to fully engulf her. Vaughn slowly eased them back until they were lying down, his arms wrapped around her and keeping her safe. The phone began to ring – probably someone else with condolences or news – but Vaughn ignored it. Sydney continued to cry, unable to even comprehend the fact that she would never see her friend again, never enjoy the easy banter between him and Vaughn and Eric, never laugh at his goofy grin or bad wardrobe choices. He was her oldest friend, and the first person to bridge the gap between her personal and professional life. Though it was Vaughn's arms that always provided her solace, Will's acceptance when he learned the truth about her life had given her the strength and confidence to continue the lies and secrets. Now one more person suffered because of her mistake, because of her naïve sense of patriotism and importance when offered a job with the CIA. No matter what Vaughn said to convince her she'd done nothing wrong, no one could deny the dangers of loving Sydney Bristow. Danny and Will were murdered, she killed Noah herself, and Vaughn had been spared because of a simple phone call. A second later and she would have lost him as well.

If she possessed the selflessness and the courage, she would leave him. She would give him their child and send them both far away so no one would ever touch them again. But she needed him too much. She couldn't survive this without him, and she couldn't even begin to imagine a life without him and their baby. "You can't leave me, Vaughn," she whispered, her voice still wavering even as the tears began to slow.

"I would_ never _leave you, Sydney," he insisted immediately. "I love you. Why would I leave you?"

"Because you should," she answered bitterly. "He'll come after you, too."

"He won't find me, Syd. I'm not leaving you. I swear to you, we will get through this together. You, me, and the baby," he assured her.

"I can't do this without you," she whispered, echoing the familiar words she'd said so many times since Paris.

"I can't do it without you, either," he replied, surprising her with a different answer than he usually offered. It was always the promise, always a pact never to leave her to do anything alone. "I love you so much, Sydney. Every day I wish there was something I could do to make your life easier, to get you out of this life. But I can't, Syd. I can't do anything but promise you I won't let anything happen to you, ever, and that I won't let anyone take me away from you."

His passionate pledge sent more tears careening down her cheeks, but he gently leaned over and kissed the tracks left on her face. She wasn't crying aloud anymore, but her body continued to jerk unsteadily as the sobs hitched in her throat, causing her to hiccup and gasp every few minutes. He watched in relief as her eyes finally fluttered closed, but didn't allow himself the same luxury. He promised not to let anything happen to her, so he was going to stick to that covenant and keep vigil to protect her from unseen enemies.

After nearly an hour of just lying on the couch watching her sleep, Vaughn finally summoned the courage and motivation to gently extract himself from his position behind her in hopes of throwing together a meagre dinner for when she awoke. Knowing Sydney, she would be too upset to eat, but Vaughn didn't plan on giving her that option. As soon as he moved, however, she bolted upright, immediately sensing his absence. She clutched onto his hand and pulled him back to her. "Where are you going?" she asked fearfully.

"Nowhere, Syd," he answered reassuringly. "I thought you were asleep. I was just going to go find something for us to eat."

"Vaughn, I don't think--"

"I know you don't feel like eating, Sydney," he cut her off, "and to be honest, I don't either. But you know you have to take care of yourself and the baby. I'll just find something light and then we can go back to bed or talk or whatever you want," he tried to reason.

At the mention of the baby, Sydney's eyes watered once more. Her hand flew to her stomach as she sought the reassurance of a life still beginning inside of her. For the first time in seven months, she honestly forgot all about the baby for several hours, too consumed by her grief to even consider anything beyond the pain she was currently experiencing. It felt as though the world should stop, the sun should vanish, and every living being besides her and Vaughn should just grow still and quiet and leave them to their mourning. In the midst of her suffering, she forgot that life around her and within her carried on. This thought wounded her almost as much as the initial shock of learning that her best friend had been murdered just like her fiancée years before. "Oh God, Vaughn," she whispered solemnly.

"What is it?" he frowned in concern. "Are you okay?"

The answer to that question was obvious, but Sydney knew what he meant. "Yeah," she answered, smiling ever so slightly to ease his fear. "I just…the baby…we were going to ask Will and Francie to be the godparents. Remember? We decided it should be them. And now Will won't even meet this baby. He'll never know if it's a boy or a girl or what we name it and he won't be there…" She couldn't continue any longer without falling apart, so she stopped, raising her hand to her mouth to stifle the screams threatening to rip from her throat.

"Oh Syd," Vaughn breathed, running back to her side.

The concern in his voice broke her, and she full-heartedly threw herself into his embrace, desperate for absolutely anything he could give her. She didn't remember feeling this way with Danny, or even with her mother. When Danny died, all she could think about was revenge, about bringing justice to a man whose only sin was loving a dangerous woman. When her mother died, she wasn't given the option of mourning. Her father was gone, just as though he'd gone over the bridge with his wife, and there were no arms to hold her when she needed to cry. She raised herself, and crying wouldn't do any good.

But now she couldn't even seek revenge, no matter how badly she wanted to. She learned the hard way that vengeance never offered the relief she sought, but at least the pursuit took her mind elsewhere, beyond the guilt and grief ravaging her emotions. This horrible new development didn't change the fact that she was restricted to desk duty, and that she owed it to her child to keep herself out of harm's way as much as possible in the life of a spy. This new experience – actually feeling something so powerful as loss – nearly sent her to her knees.

"I wanted him to be there, Vaughn," she sobbed, digging her fingernails into his skin. She wanted to crawl inside of him, burrow beneath the warmth she knew existed there, and hide forever from the cruelty of the world.

"I know you did, Sydney," he tried to soothe. "I wanted him there, too. I didn't know him like you did, but I cared about him, Syd. I really did. He and Francie would have been wonderful godparents."

"This isn't fair, Vaughn. He was so excited about this. Why can't he be here?"

"I don't know, Honey," he uttered helplessly. What could he possibly say to make any of this better? "It's not fair, and it hurts, and I'm so, so sorry," he whispered.

"I talked to him last night," she said, following his lead and keeping her voice as soft as possible. "He was telling me about something funny that happened at the restaurant, and I told him about Weiss running into the goal the other night when you guys were playing hockey." This earned the briefest flicker of a smile from Vaughn, and for just a moment, Sydney allowed herself to remember the laughter in their conversation. "It was just normal stuff, Vaughn. Nothing important. I thought we would have time for that later. I should have known better. It's always a matter of life or death with me."

"Sydney," he scolded softly. "You have to stop this. You can't analyse every little thing that you've done searching for something that could have been done differently. You were talking to your best friend, just like you always do. No one knew something like this would happen, including you."

"But I should have taken the time, Vaughn," she cried. "I could have just told him that I loved him. God, the last thing I said to him was some stupid joke about what he should wear to dinner."

"Then remember that, Sydney," he offered. "You know, the last time I saw my dad, it was just a normal day. He was going to work and I was getting ready for school. He said something about playing hockey when he got back from his trip, and then he told me to stop leaving my backpack in the hall where people were trying to walk. And then he left, and he never came back," he said, barely holding it together himself as he remembered those last few minutes with his father.

Sydney nodded in understanding. "My mom and dad were going out to eat. I was upset that I couldn't go with them…Dad had been gone on a trip and I wanted to go with them. I was being a brat and I wouldn't say goodbye, so my mom came into my room and kissed me. She told me she loved me and that we would go have lunch together, just the two of us, the next day. I was mad at her for so long for not being there to take me to lunch."

Vaughn squeezed her hand and kissed the top of her head. Neither cared that her memory was false, that her mother probably knew she couldn't make a promise like that. It didn't matter that her mother was still alive, because at age six, Sydney lost Laura Bristow forever. "But when you think about that now, Sydney," he prodded gently, "aren't you kind of glad your last few minutes with your mom were so normal? I loved my dad the most when he was just being my dad. Little moments like that are the things you cherish about a person when they're with you and when they're gone. He was just Will last night, Sydney. You'll be able to remember that he was your friend, a guy that could make you laugh, instead of dwelling on a goodbye," he said, trying to alleviate just a little of the guilt she was currently ravaging herself with.

Sydney nodded, knowing that he was right, but still so sorry she hadn't even taken a few seconds to add an "I love you" to the end of their conversation. Will probably knew, just as she knew he loved her, but it didn't excuse her from saying the words. She was always so careful with Vaughn, so afraid that anything she didn't say would somehow come back to haunt her, and he understood better than anyone. Not every goodbye was a heartfelt declaration of all their feelings, but they always made sure to part on good terms and with a sweet kiss. Why did she believe Vaughn was the only one Sloane could take away from her?

Vaughn held her for several more minutes, just keeping her as close as possible without suffocating her. She gladly accepted his comfort, taking everything she could from him without regret or hesitation. Maybe the Sydney of the past would be stronger, would try to deal with this without crumbling or revealing weakness, but she'd lost too many people now to maintain that ridiculously self-reliant ideal. The strength she used to claim began to dissipate when Danny died, and it seemed that every day took a little more out of her. Now that she knew how it felt to truly share her burdens with another human being, she knew she could never go back even if she wanted to.

"You think you can eat just a little something?" he asked softly when she seemed adequately calmed.

"I guess," she answered weakly. "I can try."

"That's all I'm asking," he said simply. He rose and grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet. "Come sit with me in the kitchen," he requested softly.

Sydney nodded and obeyed, blindly following his lead without question. He guided her to a stool at the counter and helped her sit, lingering for a moment to kiss her hair and squeeze her hand in reassurance. She watched numbly as he scoured the cabinets and began throwing together a haphazard meal. When Danny died, she really didn't eat anything for days. The lack of appetite was a normal part of the grieving process, so she didn't think anything of it. The thought of food now was no more appealing than it had been then, but the tiny kicks against her hand bolstered her resolve just a little, reminding her that there were still so many reasons to keep functioning to the best of her ability.

Several minutes later, Vaughn passed her a plate of plain pasta, preparing one for himself as well. He was considerate of her fragile state and didn't give her too much, and for that, Sydney was grateful. She would do whatever he asked of her right now; she didn't trust herself to do what was necessary to keep herself and the baby healthy. But nevertheless, she was glad he didn't request more than she could give. There was nothing to say now, so they ate their makeshift dinner in complete silence, both lost deep within their own dark thoughts and fears. When they finished, Vaughn wordlessly gathered the plates and loaded them into the dishwasher. Sydney made eye contact for just a moment, and he tipped his head in the direction of the bedroom. Not needing any further explanation, she nodded and walked quietly down the hall to their darkened bedroom.

Without bothering to turn on the light, Sydney rummaged through the drawers for suitable pyjamas. Not satisfied with any of her own wardrobe, she switched over to Vaughn's and found one of his large t-shirts. The smell of him comforted her, and the worn cotton felt soft against her skin. She located her own pair of sweatpants and quickly slid them on, and then allowed herself to close her eyes for just a few fleeting seconds. The wave of nausea hit immediately as the images began to play across her closed eyelids, tormenting her with the memories of finding Danny and transposing Will's face onto the body. She gasped and bolted to the bathroom, slamming the door shut just before falling to her knees in front of the toilet.

Vaughn's frantic footsteps behind her did nothing to still her body, and in fact, she seemed not to notice his presence at all. She quivered as the waves washed over her again and again, nearly crying from the violence of her heaving. Her eyes scorched and stung with indescribable pain, and she focused solely on trying to control her stomach, oblivious to the hand raking back her hair and massaging her tightly knotted muscles. Just as her brain grew fuzzy and her vision blurred from lack of oxygen, her vomiting screeched to a halt. Too exhausted to move, she collapsed, allowing her head to fall listlessly against the toilet bowl. A pitiful moan escaped her raw throat, and she instantly regretted making a sound.

Slowly, her body began to right itself, and she shivered from the sudden chill of her skin. Vaughn's hands infused heat back into her blood as he intuitively rubbed her aching neck. She nearly cried when he broke contact, but seconds later, a cool cloth dripping with merciful water eased the loss. She lifted her head from the porcelain and turned to face him with teary eyes. To her surprise, his green eyes were rimmed with red, and a few moist spots on his cheeks revealed that he had been crying as well. His voice wavered when he finally broke the silence. "Oh Syd," he cracked.

She sobbed his name and crawled into his embrace, allowing herself to be held and rocked right there on the cold white tiles of the bathroom floor. "I saw his face," she cried. "I closed my eyes and I pictured Danny, but it was Will's face."

"Shh," he tried to soothe. "Shh, Sydney. You're alright. You're going to be okay. We're going to get through this."

"I don't want to close my eyes again, Vaughn. I don't want to see him…"

"You don't have to," he assured her. "You don't have to close your eyes or do anything you can't do right now, Sydney. Just let me handle it, okay? I know you like to do everything yourself, but please, just trust me and we'll get you through it."

She nodded helplessly, not knowing what else could be said or done. "Okay," she agreed weakly.

"I hate that you're so miserable," he confessed sadly. "What can I do? Tell me what I can do for you."

"Just hold me," she begged. "Don't move. I just want to stay right here."

"Okay. I can do that. We can stay here as long as you want," he promised.

Calmed slightly by his gentle tones, she took a chance and allowed her eyes to close once more, trusting that he would protect her from whatever she saw in the blackness. She focused on the arms around her and slowly began to go limp, too tired to fight the beckoning sleep and welcoming oblivion. She was only vaguely aware of being lifted, and she didn't even try to protest as he carried her back to the bedroom and deposited her carefully into the bed. He covered her with the blanket, making sure she was warm, and then crawled in behind her without even bothering to change out of the clothes he'd worn to work. Finally confident that her slumber would be dreamless, Sydney drifted off to sleep, praying to God that she would wake up and discover that all of this was nothing more than a horrible nightmare.


End file.
